Hermione and the Professor's Spoon
by wellyuthink
Summary: Ron persuades Hermione to steal a teacher's possession as part of a prank, and, for reasons Hermione can’t fathom, she agrees... Written during seventh year, OotP compliant.
1. Chapter 1

**Hermione and the Professor's Spoon**

_Summary_: _Ron persuades Hermione to steal a certain object as part of a prank, and for reasons Hermione can't fathom, she agrees. This simple action starts a chain of events that promise for a most unusual year at Hogwarts. Takes place during seventh year and is canon compliant up to and including OotP but is AU after that_.

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything. All the characters belong to JKR – I just take them out to play.**

Warning: Mentions of character death, torture and past self-harming, but none are graphic.

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**Chapter One:**

* * *

Hermione stared at the object in her hand.

The more she thought about it, the more absurd her plan seemed. What exactly had she hoped to accomplish by this? It was not as if she made a habit of stealing teachers' belongings.

Her only excuse – she supposed – was that Ron had convinced her it would be a pretty harmless and amusing prank.

As usual Harry had been no help to either of them the second Hermione had voiced her disagreement with Ron. He simply sat there and smirked while Hermione and Ron bickered on about whether or not the prank was a necessary course of action to take.

Hermione sighed and rested her head on the Gryffindor table. Harry always behaved as if it was inevitable that she and Ron would end up as a couple, and consequently tried to stay out of any disagreements. She really ought to have a word with him about that.

She paused in her train of thought and glanced around warily from her unusual vantage point.

Maybe she shouldn't leave her head on the table for so long. Certainly the polished wood was cooling her aching head, but was the temporary relief really worth her hair being played with by another Gryffindor? The last time it had happened, they had protested their innocence by saying they had mistaken her bushy mane as a table decoration. She still wasn't quite sure that she believed them.

Sitting abruptly upright, she stared at the object in her hand again and gave a decisive nod. She still had two assignments due next week on Friday and she couldn't afford to fall behind by indulging in this silliness. She would put it back this instant. Never mind the fact that both Harry and Ron thought she should relax a bit and enjoy her privileges more now they were in their final year. Neither of them seemed to understand that just because they had extra privileges didn't mean they could slack off!

Unfortunately for Hermione, the appearance of those two familiar people derailed any sensible thoughts she may have been having, subsequently starting a chain of events that would cause her last school year to shed any sense of normality.

Harry Potter seemed to have this effect on everyone.

"Hey, Hermione! I fell off my broom!" Ron flopped down opposite her, still flushed from Quidditch and the showers, looking extremely pleased with himself.

Harry wordlessly raised a hand in greeting and slid in beside Ron.

She smiled at both of them, unconsciously slipping the item in her hand into her pocket as she regarded her friends. Harry had become more stoical over the last couple of years, no longer feeling he had to put on an act for people to accept him as the Boy-Who-Lived, and he was much better for it. Ron– Ron was the same as ever, bless him.

"Hermione, Ron and I are arguing over something important."

Hermione sat up straighter. Could it be about Voldemort? A new nefarious plot cooked up by the Slytherins? Important information about the NEWTs? Hardly anything ruffled Harry these days, though Ron was still prone to go off like a firecracker. Hermione narrowed her eyes as she realised neither of them looked particularly upset.

"What is it, Harry?"

"Ron has decided, idiot that he is, that the abbreviation for Gryffindors should be 'Gryffs', whereas obviously, it should be 'Finns'! As if anyone would want to be a '_Gryff'_."

Both of them sat across from her, grinning like the idiots they were for having succeeded in royally winding her up. Hermione lowered her head again and let it _thunk_ on the table.

From above her she distinctly heard Ron say, "Hey, wouldn't that make a great table decoration?" accompanied by Harry's snickering in the background.

Hermione had long since come to the realisation that her friends were idiotic prats.

oooOOOooo

Professor Snape entered the Great Hall and strode towards his seat, trying to ignore the unholy noise and clatter rising from all corners of the room. Having just spent the past two hours brewing the complex potion Skele-Gro, the last thing he needed was to be trapped in a room with hundreds of high-spirited adolescents.

Unfortunately for him, Albus insisted it was necessary for the four Heads of House to attend every meal to keep an eye on their charges – which Severus supposed he could understand – but some days he felt he would rather drink his entire poisons cabinet than spend a single minute in the Great Hall.

With a sour look at the old man, Severus took his seat and turned his attention to his Slytherins. Hmmm, Draco seemed to be flailing about an inordinate amount, apparently pretending to fall off a broomstick. Severus shot a look at the Gryffindor table; ah yes, Potter and Weasley were glaring at Draco as though he had sold out their grandmother. _And order is restored to the universe,_ Severus thought. _The Dark Lord will announce his love for the world before those two and Draco could get along…_

_Wait a minute... Two? Where's Granger?_

Severus squinted at the Gryffindor table. How could he have missed her? She was normally so distinctive with that bossy attitude and excessive amount of hair.

Ah, it was rather obvious now he thought about it; bushes do not grow out of tables, though what had encouraged the young woman to behave in such a manner was anyone's guess. He watched idly as she raised her head, responding to her friends' outraged cries. Her nose was reddened after being squashed flat and Severus caught himself smirking, making him start in mortification.

He was only supposed to smirk because he found her worthy of contempt; not because he found her ridiculous appearance endearing!

Growling softly he wrenched his eyes away back to the Slytherin table. Yes, Draco seemed in good spirits, Blaise too, which cheered him. With both their fathers in Azkaban, he had had to reassure them almost constantly at the beginning of the year. It was a good sign that they had gained more confidence, both for their own self-esteem and for the fact that their independence put them a step further away from the Dark Lord's clutches. An insecure Slytherin tended to make rash decisions.

Tugging his thoughts away from his own mistakes, he found his eyes drifting back towards the Gryffindor table to Potter – his unofficial charge – and his two sidekicks. Potter and Granger were chatting animatedly about some topic or other while the Weasley boy sulked over Draco's antics.

"He's looking better this term, don't you think?"

His eyes jerked towards the source of the softly spoken question before giving the barest nod. Minerva McGonagall smiled faintly and continued.

"I really was frightened we were going to lose him after last term."

Last term – when the Longbottom boy had died right in front of Potter's eyes during a Hogsmeade weekend. Ironically, he had been the only child killed during the raid. And after that day, especially towards the end of term, Potter had seemed almost suicidal at times.

"The Muggles must have been doing something right last summer," he conceded.

"Certainly not! You haven't met them, Severus. If anyone pulled Harry through last summer, it was Harry himself. He truly is a remarkable boy."

Severus rolled his eyes. "So remarkable that my teeth ache," he muttered. He could have sworn he heard her chuckle.

"Come now Severus, I know you do have a soft spot for him after all."

"Minerva, much to my surprise, I discovered I even cared about what happened to the Longbottom boy, though it took a rather drastic turn of events to make me realise it. In fact, I could even admit to certain... lack of dislike towards the snotty little brats after that occasion. Merlin help me, I've been teaching too long!"

That time McGonagall did chuckle. "You know, one of these days Severus, you will have to admit that you don't abhor human contact as much as you pretend."

"Never!" he exclaimed, and then smirked.

He turned his attention to his dinner, picked up his knife and started buttering his bread, mulling over the remarkable change that Potter had shown after returning at the beginning of the winter term. Looking down so no one could see his expression, he smiled slightly; it was a relief he wouldn't have to shadow the boy this year.

He set down his knife and regarded it for a few seconds as he finished up his thoughts. All the staff had one set of cutlery custom made by the house-elves when they had first started teaching – it was part of the welcome a new member of the faculty received. Severus was rather fond of his, decorated as they were with a Celtic knot pattern.

He placed his bread beside the soup bowl and reached out to pick up his spoon.

Or rather, he reached out to where his spoon should be.

Frowning, he peered around his bowl, in case he had accidently pushed it out of sight, then leaned over so his nose almost touched the table and peeped under it. The spoon was not there. The House-Elves would never have forgotten such an obvious thing and his colleagues would never consider hiding it. This only left one option…

"Minerva! Those little bastards have stolen my spoon!"

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_A/N: Liked? Disliked? Please let me know!_


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two:**

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Silence reigned in the Great Hall. All eyes turned towards the Head Table, and in turn, to Professor Snape, taking in his fearsome expression which was in no way belied by his ridiculous statement.

In those few, frozen seconds Hermione felt the hair rise on the back of her neck.

Oh no. The item.

She had meant to put it back. She really, really had.

But then Ron and Harry had turned up, babbling about Quidditch and nicknames and she had completely _ shit_, she was in so much trouble. Judging by the expression on Professor Snape's face, she should seriously consider packing in preparation for spending the next fifty years hiding in Nebraska, by which time Professor Snape should have developed rheumatism, and be easy to run away from.

"Err, Hermione?" someone whispered softly across to her. She peeped up over the edge of the table into a pair of worried green eyes.

Ron was still staring, dumbstruck, at the staff table. Harry however hastily made slight chivvying movements with his hands until Hermione realised she had slipped down as low as she could in her seat. Unless she wanted to give the game up, or hide under the table, she would have to act more naturally.

Seamus' surreptitious hand pulling her up by her hair helped her decision making.

Whispers were starting to break out; students were speculating on who could be brave enough to pull a prank on the 'Dungeon Bat'.

Hermione peeped up at the Head Table again, in time to see Dumbledore lean over and offer the most garish soup spoon in the history of the planet to the irate Professor. The Professor in question stared at Dumbledore before letting his lip curl.

In a sudden flurry of movement, he threw back his chair, and, with a face like thunder, stormed towards the staff door. Placing his hand on the handle, he paused, turned, and shot the most venomous look she had even seen from him.

At Harry.

The boom of the door slamming echoed around the noiseless hall, causing several First Years to flinch. The dramatic atmosphere was somewhat mitigated by the Headmaster purposefully spilling soup down his beard.

Most of the students burst out laughing, and promptly forgot about Professor Snape's latest temper fit, as the more important subjects of Quidditch, love-lives and detentions took precedence in their woolly minds. Hermione turned back to a still-gobsmacked Ron and a very pale Harry Potter.

"My," Ron swallowed to clear his dry throat. "My God, I thought he would make a fuss, but nothing like that! I mean, it's-it's, it's a spoon!"

"Great input there Ron," Harry remarked sardonically. "Thanks to your brilliant idea for a prank, I am now in soooo much trouble. And I didn't even have anything to do with it this time!"

"But, that now means that we're going to have a hell of a time completing the rest of the prank with him on super-paranoid-Snape-mode!" Ron moaned.

Hermione gaped. Harry gaped. They both gaped for an indefinite amount of time at the crazy person who had abducted Ron's body before Hermione found her voice again.

"Ron," she said, very slowly and carefully, "what part of our reactions to Snape's outburst gave you the impression that we would in _any _way help you with _any_ _more_ pranks against him?"

Ron brightened. "Hermione, you didn't say _Professor_ Snape! We knew constantly tutoring you in being disrespectful to teachers would pay off eventually!" He grinned in a self-satisfied kind-of way at Harry. Harry observed him in the same way he would some new bacterial culture discovered at the back of the fridge under the cheese.

"Don't avoid the issue!" Hermione snapped.

Ron's face fell. "But Hermione-" he whined.

"No buts!" Hermione shoved her hair out of her face, like a woman driven to distraction. "I'll tell you what we're going to do! We're going to go up to the Common Room _right now_, put up a Silencing charm and… and figure something out!"

She jumped out from the bench, grabbed her schoolbag and stormed out of the Great Hall with nary a backward glance.

"Wow, look," Ron muttered, "a mini-Snape with better hair... But only just."

Harry nodded dumbly, and, with a dazed expression still firmly in place, picked up his pumpkin juice and poured it diligently into his schoolbag.

oooOOOooo

Teeth bared, air whistling between them with each heavy breath, Severus Snape stormed down to the dungeons. _Of all the… If he ever… Nasty little…_ So distressed he could not even form coherent thoughts, he sped up, and listened to the sharp snapping sound of his boots on stone. Normally this soothed his irascible temper so much that he could spend hours roaming the empty corridors after curfew but it was obvious that more drastic measures were necessary tonight.

Minerva was wrong. He wasn't attached to his students in any way; the only use for any of them was as intimidation practice. Oh, what wouldn't he give for the chance to melt them all down and use them as caldron lining! Imbeciles, every last one of them!

His pace increased again, until his robe material looked like it was suspended mid-air, and until any normal man would have found it difficult to keep up with him, even if the man in question was sprinting. It was Potter; he just _knew_ it was Potter. Arrogant, insolent, rule-defying whelp! How dare he steal his spoon!

Entering yet another dungeon corridor, he halted, and yanked viciously on the third wall-bracket from the left while muttering, "Paisley porridge." Not even Dumbledore would guess that one!

Then he was across the flagstones and onto the hearth rug, his footsteps becoming muffled by the thick pile. The impromptu silence was more than made up for by the boom of the fireplace roaring to life following his incandescent _Incendio_.

Severus stormed around the room, quickly checking off the items he needed: Firewhiskey, chair at the right angle, obscure Potions book prepped for angry reading. Thus equipped, Severus flung himself down – glass and tome in hand – into his favourite squashy armchair, and propped his feet on the coffee table as he went. _Ahhh, much better._ Who needed chocolate when you had comfort, quality liquor and a good book to snark at?

Severus immersed himself in the text, muttering fervently at the inconsistencies and stretches of logic contained within – firelight flickering on his face, Firewhiskey warming his belly. The raging inferno tearing at his chest whirled slower, then stilled. Severus unconsciously sunk deeper into his chair, eyelids drooping as hours passed and calm returned. Soon he would begin plotting how to get back at whoever had stolen his spoon, soon... but not just yet.

Severus slowly became aware of a sound in his chambers, repeated at regular intervals. He shook his head and leaned further over his book, but the sound persisted and he slowly registered it as his own name.

Eventually, breathing an irritable sigh, he raised his head, which brought the grinning faces of Minerva and Albus into view. The rest of them had been seated on his sofa for quite some time.

Severus groaned, just what he needed right now; a visit from Pinkie and Perky. And just how did they get into his chambers in the first place?


	3. Chapter 3

**

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**Chapter Three:**

* * *

Harry slowly trudged a few paces behind Ron as he led the way up to Gryffindor Tower. He had hoped his last year at Hogwarts would be less frantic than any of the others, but it was obviously not to be.

It had all been going so well! No deranged attacks from a maniac and no absurd reasons for the whole school to hate him. Snape had even begun to lay off him a bit in Potions class, the old animosity only staged for those few students hell-bent on throwing their lives away by following said maniac. Now, however, it appeared that Snape once more utterly despised him, over a _spoon_ of all things!

He looked up, surprised, as Ron spoke the password – 'Tricksy Truffles'. He had not realised they were at the Common Room already. Harry smirked as the Fat Lady swung open – it didn't take a genius to work out that Dumbledore had chosen the passwords this year. He had even heard that the one for the Hufflepuff Common Room was 'Mulberry Muffins'.

It was rather adorable how all the little ones took them seriously, though.

There were only the few people who hadn't gone to dinner dotted around the Common Room, making it appear more spacious than usual. Hermione was especially hard to miss, seated on the couch right beside the fire, looking as if someone had used a foot pump to inflate her with indignation. Beside him he heard Ron gulp. They were really in for it, well, Ron was at the least.

"Go up to the dorm," Harry hissed as he grabbed Ron's arm, preventing him from bolting.

Ron nodded miserably and plodded towards the spiral staircase while Harry slipped over to where an outraged Hermione was watching Ron's progress.

"Don't worry, he's not escaping you, it's just, the dorm would be much better for plotting, don't you think?"

Hermione gave him a suspicious look, and then deflated, nodding distractedly, and looking as if she was wondering why she hadn't thought of that herself. Harry grabbed her arm and tugged – the sooner this was sorted out, the better.

Soon all three of them safely ensconced on Harry's bed, curtains partially drawn and '_Muffliato'_ – a spell Harry had picked up from Professor Snape during sixth year – on the door.

"The best thing for us to do," Hermione stated, hogging all of Harry's pillows, "is to act completely nonchalant, while watching closely for the best opportunity to return the… object." Hermione paused and waited while Harry whispered 'nonchalant means casual' to Ron. "This means waiting until Professor Snape is obviously pre-occupied with something else–"

"But, Hermione," Ron cut in. "Snape's _never_ pre-occupied! His eyes are everywhere, his attention is everywhere; _Snape is everywhere!_ Besides, I'll bet the second the three of us set foot in his classroom, it'll be a silent _Legilimens_ and then we'll really be in for it. Harry... Why are you smirking?"

"Because, Ron, Snapey-kins doesn't know that after… Sirius died... I started studying Occlumency on my own. By now I'm good enough to block my connection to Voldemort almost completely, and misdirect people who try to probe me. Snape tried it on an awful lot last year, and didn't even realise what my true thoughts were because I redirected him to memories about Quidditch and brewing while hiding my true thoughts in the elemental image I conjured up."

Hermione and Ron were gaping and Harry couldn't help but feel smug that the accomplishment, made through his own hard work, had made his friends temporarily speechless. After a long pause Hermione and Ron spoke almost simultaneously.

"Harry, that's amazing! Why didn't you tell us earlier?"

"Brilliant, mate! Serves Snape right! What were you really thinking all those times?"

"One, because I still wasn't sure of my skill and two, composing sonnets to the size of his nose and greasiness of his hair, actually."

Hermione tutted while Ron guffawed.

"But, mate," Ron continued a moment later when he'd collected himself. "What good does it do us if you know Occlumency and we don't? Snape will just assume we're to blame and cast _Legilimens_ on us instead."

"Ron, you _are_ to blame," Harry snickered. His green eyes blazed and seemed to glow with inner light. "As to the other; let me show you how."

***

Albus leaned forward. "Severus, my dear boy, how are you feeling?"

Severus scowled.

"Ah, wonderful, I'm so glad you're feeling better. You were quite upset during dinner, don't you know!" Albus' wand appeared in his hand and, as he gave three decisive flicks, a tray carrying a bowl of lamb stew and a glass of apple juice appeared on the coffee table between them.

Severus snorted derisively. "Apple juice, Albussh? What am I, ten?" Severus paused. Had he really just said Albussh? Maybe he was slightly more intoxicated than he first thought. It did not help that Minerva was snickering behind her hand at him.

"What?" he snarled at her, reaching for the juice, intending to get rid of the evidence before much else could be said.

Before he knew what was happening, he was falling, ever so ungracefully, out of his chair. Puzzlement adorned his features, before he muzzily lifted his head and squinted towards his brand new bottle of Firewhiskey.

Ah, half-empty – that's why. Gradually he became aware of near silent laughter, and he sneered in the general vicinity of Albus and Minerva. Best to not insult them – his tongue felt like it had a lead weight tied to the end of it.

Albus came around the coffee table, a delighted smile still firmly in place, and hooked his wiry arms underneath Severus' own to help him up.

"Perhaps some Sobrietus Potion first, Severus?" questioned Albus, as he pushed the swaying Potions Master back into his seat. He made his way over to the wall opposite the fireplace, and consequently, the cabinet where Severus kept all his medical potions.

"Ah, here we are!" He selected the bluish-silver potion from the top shelf and swept back over to Severus, whose eyes appeared to be vaguely crossed.

Indeed, this was made more apparent a second later when they had trouble focusing on the swirling potion shoved in front of his nose. Severus frowned faintly and looked up into Albus' face.

"Albussh?"

"Yes, Severus?" Albus adopted the customary patient expression used on drunks by their friends everywhere.

"Your robessh, are really, really horrible."

Albus stared down at his fuchsia robes covered in tiny gold swiggles. "Is that so?"

"Yessh, they're making the room sshpin."

"That's because you're drunk, Severus."

"Issh it really?" Severus looked surprised.

"Drink!" Albus pulled the stopper out and shoved the phial even further under Severus' nose. Eventually the younger man managed to secure a firm hold on it and toss it back.

Severus blinked as the room came back into focus, first looking up at Albus, and then over to Minerva, who was still wiping tears of mirth from her eyes and muttering, "Oh, we do love you, Severus. You make getting up in the morning so much more worthwhile!"

"Oh," he said.

"Not to worry, dear boy." Albus placed a hand on his shoulder before lifting the dinner tray and placing it on Severus' lap. "Eat and drink up, you need to keep your strength up as much as any of us. Now, enlighten me, precisely how long have you wanted to tell me what you think of these robes?"

Severus flushed and mumbled something into his stew.

"Probably since the moment you first wore them, Albus," Minerva exclaimed as she shuddered. "They truly are _hideous!_"

"Ah, wonderful. I shall endeavour to wear them to the next Board of Governors' meeting – they could always do with a bit of cheering up!" Albus settled back a little deeper into the couch before continuing. "Now, onto a more serious matter, Kingsley has informed me that the moles within the Auror office appear almost ready to make their move, so you should be prepared to be Called any day now."

Severus grimaced and nodded. He was grateful Albus always made an effort to avoid the Dark Lord's name in Severus' presence. The word 'Voldemort' was in fact a trigger word linked to the Dark Mark, causing a spasm of pain to go through the arm of any Death Eater within hearing range. It was, supposedly, a warning system so that 'loyal' followers could listen in on said conversations. However, Severus suspected it was more to do with the sadistic bastard's penchant for causing pain.

_Honestly,_ Severus thought,_ if the Dark Lord's grand speeches regarding the death and subjugation of all Muggles weren't a hint that he was cracked, then this certainly was. I don't know what took me so long to work it out, young fool that I was._

Someone reached over and gripped his hand, bringing him back to the present. Minerva patted the back of it a couple of times before releasing it, her sympathy a counterpart to Albus' sombre expression. Though he sneered at them both, he knew that out of the whole of Hogwarts, he only willingly accepted the touch of these two people. Anyone else, unless it was Poppy Pomfrey, was likely to get a tongue lashing strong enough for their ears to want to shrivel up and die.

"Remember your Portkey, my boy. You're still useful to the cause even if you can no longer spy for us."

Severus nodded as he finished his stew. "I'm not deranged, Albus. It's not as if I'm going to think I'm only worth something if I die a martyr's death. Besides, I still need to find out which little cretin has made off with my soup spoon!"

"Glad to hear it, Severus, glad to hear it," Albus chuckled. "I'm sure whoever has done it will see the error of their ways very soon. Now off to bed with you, you've both got full days of classes tomorrow, whereas I can spend the whole day flicking thumb tacks at Phineas Nigellus with no one being any the wiser. I'll deal with any essays due back that you haven't marked already."

Severus groaned. "You're even nastier to the students in those essays than I am! Whatever would they think if they found out their kindly old Headmaster was calling them 'idiot savants who appeared to have mislaid their entire brain before coming to potions class,' hmm? I shudder to think what you were like as Transfiguration teacher!"

Albus twinkled. "Let us hope they never find out," he whispered conspiratorially. "Now, bed, both of you!"

"Calm down, Albus, we're going." Minerva helped herself to some of Severus' Floo Powder. "Goodnight, Severus," she called before disappearing in a flash of flame. Severus smirked as Albus settled behind his oak desk and started hacking through essays with sharpened quill. Maybe company wasn't so overrated after all.

"Albus?"

"Hmmm?" the old man murmured, not looking up.

"How did you get into my quarters?"

This time the Headmaster did look up. "Why, with magic, Severus!"

Severus ground his teeth as he slammed into his bedroom. Oh how he abhorred company!


	4. Chapter 4

_'mindspeak'_

* * *

**Chapter Four:**

* * *

Hermione and Ron leaned forward, eagerly. _Is_ _Harry going to teach us Occlumency?_ Ron wondered as he glanced over at Hermione. She was practically salivating at the idea of getting her hands on such elitist knowledge. _Honestly, she can be so single-minded sometimes!_ When Harry finally began to speak, Ron turned his attention back to the other boy.

"What we're going to do now is something I read up on over last summer. This technique will ensure that no matter how hard Snape goes looking for evidence, he won't get the truth from any of us."

Ron blinked. "There's a way to pull the wool over Snape's eyes? If so, then count me in!"

"It isn't Occlumency exactly... It's more a way of linking minds, and – more importantly – a way of allowing me to perform Occlumency for you."

"So we get to fool Snape and don't even have to work for it? Brilliant! When do we start?"

"Weren't you listening, Ron? Harry's going to be working three times as hard to keep all our thoughts in check! You might spare a thought for him, you know, that special individual you call your best friend? The guy you've known since first year? Is this ringing any bells for you?" Hermione snapped.

Ron rolled his eyes at her. Trust Hermione to bring him back down to Earth before he'd even had a proper chance to gloat. She sounded as though she was offended at the very idea of not having to work for something. Ron tried to share a look with Harry about her attitude, but Harry had that funny smirk on his face again. This particular smirk only appeared when Ron and Hermione were disagreeing about something. Ron wondered what it was that Harry found so amusing.

"Ahem, back to the present… Thank you. I need your permission to cast _Legilimens_ on each of you so I can create the bond. Don't look so worried! It's a very low level bond – not invasive at all! It's easy to cancel if we don't like it."

"Sure, mate, do what you have to," Ron replied readily, but Hermione frowned before nodding slowly. Ron reached over to squeeze her hand. "Don't worry, Hermione. If Harry says he can handle it, then he can handle it. Most insecure wizard hero, remember?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Why, thanks, Ron!" He pulled out his wand, and pointed it at his best mate. "Ready?"

But Ron was shaking his head. "No, Hermione first – she's the one who's worried about it." Ron watched closely as Harry drew a deep breath, levelled his wand at Hermione, and whispered, "_Legilimens_."

Hermione went pale. Her pupils dilated, and her breaths came more rapidly. She looked as though she was fighting off a panic attack. Harry, on the other hand, had gone very still. His brows were tight with concentration, and his wand remained unwavering.

Suddenly the room felt very cold to Ron. _Should we really be doing this?_ It was all well and good to sit around and plan to alter someone's mind, but actually doing it was another thing entirely. Shivers pulsed down his spine as he remembered the utterly blank expression on Lockhart's face a few seconds after the ceiling had come down. Harry hadn't seen that, and Ron was glad. The sight had given him nightmares for months afterwards.

Ron dragged his eyes back to the silent pair. _Will one of them be stuck like this forever? Will both?_ Ron always thought it was one of his greatest failings that, in the real world, he could only see what was wrong with the plan when it was too late to do anything about it.

Luckily for Ron, barely a second later, both Harry and Hermione rejoined the rest of the world.

"That…" Hermione swallowed. "That's amazing, Harry! I can actually hear your thoughts!"

"Only when we both want to – I already told you it wasn't an intrusive bond. Both of us have to actively reach out to each other to make the connection. Now, Ron, your turn! Don't look so nervous, mate! The only thing that could go wrong is that it won't work."

"Whoa, whoa, wait a minute!" A thought occurred to Ron. "When did you actually learn Legilimency? How do I know that you aren't just picking it up as you go along?"

Harry shot a _look_ at him. "You really should have thought of that before I started on Hermione. And, for your information, Dumbledore took me aside during sixth year when he thought Occlumency was a complete failure for me. He wanted me to be able to defend myself by going on the offensive. I didn't bother to correct him – it's something I'll be able to use against Voldemort, after all. Okay now, Ron?"

Ron grumbled a little, but sat still as Harry pointed his wand and incanted the spell. Immediately Ron was submerged in a deluge of memories – the spider teddy-bear, the Forbidden Forest, Hagrid – before he slowly became aware of Harry's voice in his head.

'_Concentrate on my voice, Ron. That's it, come over here. Good. Now, see this golden thread?'_

Ron saw it – a shimmering rope of thought – the end trailed in front of him, while the rest led Merlin-knows-where.

'_That's the connection to my mind, Ron. Just take hold of it, and let me do the rest.'_

Ron obediently grabbed the end, and watched in astonishment as it melted flawlessly into the whirl of his memories. A moment passed, and Ron became aware of Harry's voice again.

'_Ta da! And you thought I couldn't do it! Hang on a second... I'll just connect you to Hermione.'_

A silvery thread appeared, and Ron reached out to grab the end of it without having to be asked. He watched the tendrils slowly curl through his memories before they vanished completely. The memories whirled slower and then stopped. Ron gradually became aware of himself sitting on Harry's bed, the end of his robes twisted tightly in his hands.

He felt a slight prodding within his mind and he reached out to soothe the mental irritation. The irritation resolved itself into first Harry's voice, and then into Hermione's.

'_There we go! Easy as pie. Snape won't know what's hit him.'_

'_Ron, are you all right? You've gone awfully pale.'_

When Ron opened his eyes, and saw both of his friends staring at him, it was obvious that neither of their mouths had moved.

'_Wicked!'_ he thought.

Harry answered out loud this time, "Isn't it just? We'll have to limit ourselves tonight as we're new to this. We'll need all our strength for tomorrow."

Ron nodded. "Sorry I doubted you, mate."

Harry waved his apology away. "Don't worry, Ron, everyone's nervous when it comes to someone else poking around in your head. Now, Hermione, what did you do with the spoon?"

Harry and Ron quickly reached out to draw all the curtains around the four-poster closed. When the trio were completely surrounded by darkness, Harry quietly muttered, "_Lumos."_

"In my pocket," she replied, pulling it out, and placing it in the middle of the bed. "If you two idiots hadn't distracted me when I was about to put it back, that is the one place where it wouldn't be!"

Ron rolled his eyes again. _Trust Hermione to complain about rule-breaking even when she's responsible for the prank!_ His eyes were drawn to the innocuous-looking spoon and he imagined evil radiating off it.

Harry effectively distracted Ron from his visions of sizzling green death-rays by dumping his school bag next to the spoon.

"I started writing a diary after fifth year to help sort everything out in my head, and I bought a box from Diagon Alley to keep it in. The box is keyed to my magical signature, so only I could open it. It should be a perfect hiding place for the spoon. It's spell-proof too, so a Summoning or Tracking Charm will have no effect."

Harry opened the flap on his schoolbag and rummaged around for a couple of minutes while Ron and Hermione waited patiently. All of a sudden, Harry froze.

"Harry, what's the matter?" Hermione asked.

"Err," Harry replied, and he turned the bag around to show her. Right at the bottom of the bag, next to the necessary box, was a huge pile of orange foam. Pumpkin-juice smelling, orange foam.

Ron wrinkled his nose. "Harry, what the hell?"

"I think it happened when I poured pumpkin juice over the Venomous Tentacula_ blossoms." Harry gulped. "What do I do with it?"_

"Don't touch it, Harry! How on Earth did you get pumpkin juice on those blossoms? They're supposed to be contained separately from any other ingredients!" Hermione exclaimed while taking a closer look at the orange stuff, which now appeared to be vibrating.

"I was distracted by the Snape Stare. I wasn't thinking straight. I think I wanted to leave the Great Hall, but I hadn't finished my pumpkin juice, so I decided to take it with me."

Hermione and Ron stared at Harry.

"I told you! I wasn't thinking straight. The pumpkin juice must have got inside the box of blossoms somehow-"

Harry's explanation was cut short by a shuffling noise. The foam surged up over the side of the school bag, slid across the centre of the bed, flopped onto the floor, and was out under the door before you could say 'eek!'

Ron decided to anyway, "Eeek!"

However they had more pressing problems than finding out how a lump of foam had suddenly become sentient.

Harry looked up at both of them, his face drip-white. "It's taken the spoon!"

Severus stirred briefly and opened his eyes. He stared up at the dark green canopy above his head while blinking the sleep from his vision. He had the distinct impression that something important had happened while he was sleeping. He frowned slightly before shrugging. If it was anything momentous, Albus would have contacted him.

The most likely assumption was that the little cretins were getting up to mischief again.

He slipped out of bed, stretched, and padded to the bedroom door. Unless they were camped right outside his quarters, he wasn't going to bother. He stepped into the main room, intending to head straight for the entrance of his chambers, but the sight that met him brought him to a complete halt. Severus blinked in surprise. The Headmaster was lying, fast asleep, over Severus' desk. A neat stack of marked essays lay to one side.

Severus crept over to the venerable wizard and poked him in the ribs. "Old man, notice anything strange about the castle tonight?"

"Sherbet Lemons."

"Really? Well, that's too bad."

"Sherbet Lemons," Albus agreed.

Severus eyed the slumbering pensioner incredulously. "Only you, Albus, only you," he muttered, before walking to the entrance of his chambers. He opened the door and peeped out. Nothing strange or out of the ordinary was within his sight, but Severus could have sworn he saw a large pile of orange foam whizz by at high speed.

_Even Hogwarts isn't that weird_, he thought to himself. Well, someone else could catch the little troublemakers tonight. Severus was tired. He strolled back to his bedroom, only pausing to collect the comforter hanging over the back of the sofa, and place it around the Headmaster's shoulders.

"Good night, Albus," he called over his shoulder, and received a mumbled, 'Sherbet Lemons,' as a reply.

_I wonder what dreaming about them would signify in Divination?_ Severus thought as he climbed into bed. _Probably an avalanche._ He rolled over, yawned quietly and snuggled deeper into the warmth of his four-poster. Drifting off to sleep, he wished Filch good luck in finding the hapless miscreants.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five:**

* * *

Hermione, Ron, and Harry dragged themselves into the Potions classroom next morning, barely able to keep their eyes open. Chasing a lump of orange foam around the castle beneath Harry's Invisibility Cloak was not the ideal way to spend the night before a full day of classes. Luckily for them, the night was fruitful, and they had finally managed to corner it at the end of the third floor corridor. Ron had cast the Impediment Jinx at the creature – fortunately, accurately – and Harry had reached inside it and retrieved the spoon.

The spoon was now secure in Harry's box in the boys' dorm, and the foam had been happily snoozing on Ron's bed the last time Hermione had seen it. It had taken quite a shine to the red-haired boy. Hermione's private opinion was that, due to the similarities in colour between Ron's hair and the foam, the foam probably thought they were related.

Now, free from the night's antics, they needed to put their previously formulated plan into action: to get through double Potions without Snape suspecting that they were the spoon-stealers. They took their seats and waited for the lesson to begin.

The second Snape slammed through the classroom door, Hermione felt Harry reach out to her mind and fill it full of thick, white fog, thus obscuring all thoughts of spoon-related rule-breaking out of sight, with her normal memories plastered on top. Hermione had a few seconds to be impressed with Harry's skill before all further thoughts on Occlumency were concealed to prevent Snape from suspecting them…

oooOOOooo

Severus was frustrated. He had got up especially early that morning, eager to catch Potter out in his rule-breaking, and had been in an unusually good mood because of the anticipation. Now, however, he could feel a headache coming on from using too much Legilimency, and was no closer to discovering the fate of his spoon.

He couldn't understand it. He'd sifted through all three of the Golden Trio's minds repeatedly, careful to remain undetected, but all he'd found were silly, worthless images of Quidditch, learning, and potion-making. He'd been so sure it was Potter that he hadn't made any plans in the eventuality that he might be wrong.

Scowling, he stalked around the classroom, hoping to find fault with as many Gryffindor potions as possible. He was pleasantly surprised. Due to his fiercer-than-usual demeanour in the face of his disappointment, most of the students had been distracted.

"Miss Brown, I wouldn't even feed this despicable slop to you, and that's saying something. Ten points from Gryffindor for utter incompetence."

He moved onto the next potion, his spirits lifting slightly.

"The same goes for you, Mr Finnegan. Whatever gave you the impression I suffer fools in my classroom? Stop babbling to your lab partner and start paying attention for once in your miserable life!"

_Excellent, this is enough to cheer any man up._

"Potter, it seems your father's genes give you the impression that you don't even need to try. Let me disillusion you: the one characteristic you do not share with him is your brains. Be assured, he was a lot brighter than you'll ever be!"

And finally, the cherry on the cake of failures…

"Miss Granger," he purred while sneering down at her slightly discoloured concoction.

"Yes, sir?" she quavered, before swallowing to clear her dry throat as he loomed over her.

"This is utterly unacceptable, Miss Granger. See me after class for your punishment." He whirled away, stalking to the front of the classroom, and waited to see what they'd do. Sometimes he loved being unfair to the Gryffindors, listening to their protests, and knowing that they could do nothing. It helped make up for how helpless he sometimes felt under the Dark Lord's power.

Potter's eyes were wide. "But, sir…" he breathed, unable to go on. The Weasley brat, on the other hand, had no trouble badmouthing him.

"Ten points from Gryffindor for each filthy word that comes out of your mouth, Mr Weasley. You've managed to lose forty already, care to make it more?" He watched with amusement as the child turned bright red and glared at his cauldron as though it had mortally offended him. Granger, however, was staring at Severus as if she were about to burst into tears. Potter didn't look much better – as if he had drawn into himself, away from the world.

Severus felt a sharp twinge in his chest. _Ignore it, ignore it!_ He stalked around the classroom. _Curse it all! I've made a fine mess of this already. There goes my resolve to preserve Potter's mental state, lost in a fit of temper!_ Potter knew what he thought of the boy's father, and to imply that he thought the son was worse so soon after said son had been near suicidal…

"Potter!" he snapped, whirling on the boy and watching him flinch. "The second you've labelled your potion, I want you in my office, boy!"

Potter went pale. "Yes, sir," he whispered, before hastily scratching out the label of the potion with his quill and slipping out the door. When the bell rang four minutes later, Severus breathed an inaudible sigh of relief. The general bustle and scramble to get to the door made the silence a few seconds later even more audible. Granger sat at her desk, her hands clasped in front of her and her face pale.

"Miss Granger, up here if you please," he snarled. She jumped to his command like a frightened rabbit. "Now, I'm sure you appreciate how utterly unacceptable that liquid you called a potion was. I want you down here tonight, eight o'clock sharp, prepared to repeat it until I deem it correct! Now get out!"

Understanding dawned on her face and Severus concealed his relief. He knew he could have counted on her to notice his offer to make up for the potion she'd botched. Any Dark Lord 'follower' lingering outside the classroom would have assumed he was just indulging in another round of Gryffindor-bullying. But then, Miss Granger had always been one of the brighter students.

He dismissed her, and gave her a five minute head-start to get out of the general vicinity before stalking towards his office, all the while trying to invent an appropriate 'Potions Master apology' for Potter, and failing miserably.

He opened the door to his office and found Potter sitting in the chair opposite the mahogany desk with his school bag in his lap and his arms curled around it. Severus snorted to himself. _Wonderful. He looks just the picture of emotional stability. Well done, Snape._

Potter looked up at the sound of the door clicking shut, and tried to adopt the insolent look Severus knew and loathed from Occlumency lessons, but only succeeded in looking even more pathetic.

This Potter reminded Severus more of the young man forced into working for the good of the Order, rather than the troublesome brat who used to make Severus' life hell. Severus swept forward and leant against his desk, rather than behind it. This startled the boy considerably.

Locking and Silencing Charms in place, Severus turned towards the child, who was now gnawing on his bottom lip and looking as though his insides had been hollowed out. The snarky apology fell right out of Severus' head. He would have to do some serious grovelling if he didn't want to end up scraping the child off the foot of the Astronomy Tower.

"Potter... Harry, I apologise." Wide green eyes stared at him. "The comment I made was unnecessary, especially considering the fact that we are secretly allies. In fact, there are some days where I am certain that you are a lot more intelligent than your father." Severus winced at how stilted and awkward his speech sounded to the boy. Something about this child showing vulnerability made Severus' heart soften – just barely, of course – especially in these later years, now that the boy truly understood loss.

Harry swallowed roughly. "Apology accepted, sir, I do understand how you have to appear." He stood and walked towards the heavy, wooden door before stopping and turning back. "And, sir? Just so you know, I swear to you, I didn't steal your spoon." That said, Harry dismantled the wards and slipped out the room.

Severus settled back into his chair and let his mind slide from the heavy topic of emotions to more trivial matters – like wondering why his office now smelt of pumpkin juice. He caught sight of a slight movement out of the corner of his eye, but by the time he had turned his head, whatever creature had been there was long gone.


	6. Chapter 6

_'mindspeak'_

* * *

**Chapter Six:**

* * *

Hermione blanched as Harry stepped into the Common Room that evening. He'd been avoiding everyone all day, not even going to his classes. One look at his pale face and Hermione could see why.

"Harry?" she queried softly as he flopped into a chair beside her, her lecture forgotten.

"I'm fine, Hermione." He yawned and stretched. "Just needed to do some thinking." In his mind he continued, _'Y'know, Snape apologised for what he said to me today – he just came right out and said it. Amazing, eh? Didn't know the bat had it in him. Still, I did need someone to say something like that to stop myself from doing something… silly.'_

Hermione noticed Harry's left hand had sneaked over to rub at his covered forearm, and felt her blood go cold in a flash of understanding. She had always wondered how Harry had coped with Neville's death after he closed himself off from the world. Now, she definitely did not want to know.

"Anyway," Harry continued out loud, eyelids drooping. "What'd he do to you?"

"Oh, nothing, just gave me detention."

Harry's eyes opened wide. "Detention? Nothing? Who are you and what have done with Hermione Granger?"

"Oh, give it a rest, Harry," she chuckled. "All he's done is given me an opportunity to redo my potion at eight o'clock tonight. Do you think he has a soft spot for us?"

"Nah, couldn't be!"

Harry didn't get any further as, at that precise moment, there came a beseeching wail from the dorm-room. "Harry! Hermione! Heeellllllp!"

They raced up the stairs to Harry's dorm, flung the door open, and… fell about laughing.

Ron was sitting on his bed in the empty dorm, his head completely engulfed in orange foam, which was once more vibrating. It appeared that this was the foam's version of purring.

"Don't just stand there laughing like pillocks – come and get him off me! Arnold, Arnold, down boy!"

This pronouncement just made them laugh even harder. Harry was on his knees, weakly pounding the floor with his fist, while Hermione hung onto the doorknob for dear life. At last they managed to regain control and tug 'Arnold' from his perch atop Ron's head, and wrap him in a bed sheet.

"Arnold?! Seriously, Ron, why name it Arnold?" Hermione asked, holding the squirming bundle at arms' length.

"Well, he liked words that began with 'A' and he didn't seem to like the name 'Androgen', so I thought, why not name him Arnold?"

Hermione stared at Ron, dumbfounded for the longest time, before she finally managed to find her voice again. "I am rather glad he didn't like the idea of being called 'Androgen', Ron, seeing as it's _a male sex hormone_."

Ron went puce. "O-oh? Is it? I could've sworn I heard it as someone's name once!"

"No, Ron," Hermione muttered condescendingly before turning to Harry, who was giggling uncontrollably on his own bed. "Harry, shouldn't we be practising that mind-link we have to make it stronger? It might even be 'the power the Dark Lord knows not.'"

Harry sat up, composing himself. "I doubt it, Hermione. There are quite a few things that Voldemort doesn't know I can do. Like make an ace Chicken Caesar Salad, for example. But I can hardly see him standing in a puddle of salad dressing screaming 'I'm melting, I'm melting', can you?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. How could her best friend be emotionally profound one moment, and then, barely thirty minutes later, transform once again into an idiot? "Harry, try and focus. It's a useful skill. You said as much yourself!"

"All right, all right! We'll start out with the basics: practising holding the link as long as possible, and then seeing how far away we can get from each other while still maintaining it. I don't want too much done tonight though. Voldy's due another meeting with his cronies, and I'll get one hell of a headache if I overdo it."

oooOOOooo

It was that night that it happened.

Severus was busy settling back in his comfy chair, mulling over his handling of Potter and his friends, while absentmindedly marking the Third Year aconite essays. A glass of merlot sat inconspicuously on the coffee table, waiting for Severus' attention, in case he came across a particularly terrible essay.

Then, all of a sudden, all the hair down the back of his neck stood to attention, followed closely by the chilling sensation of fingernails scraping down the inside of his left forearm, underneath his skin. The fierce burn came a second later, so strong that his eyes squeezed closed and a pained gasp was wrenched from between his lips.

Severus hurled down his quill, downed the merlot, and chucked a pinch of Floo Powder into the fire while calling out the keyword Albus and he had decided on for these situations.

"Albus, checkmate!" It was a well-known fact among the staff that the Headmaster had never-yet lost a chess game to the Potions Master. A fact that infuriated Severus no end.

Severus stepped into the fireplace and, the second he felt the wards go down, pressed his forefinger to the Dark Mark. This was the only way to Apparate within Hogwarts. The combination of the Floo, Dark magic, and Albus' tampering with the wards had saved Severus many an arduous trip down to the gates when the Mark burned.

The heat of the flames soon gave way to cold evening air, and Severus found himself standing in the forest located just outside Malfoy Manor. He recognised it as this because of the white peacock standing there, eyeing him. No, not Lucius, a real peacock. The Malfoy in question was striding towards him, dressed in full Death Eater regalia already, his condescending sneer firmly in place. It appeared to have taken him even less time than before to break out of Azkaban this time around.

"Honestly, Severus, not even dressed? What will our Lord think?" Lucius sniped, as if his tone alone could make Snape quiver in fear. Typical. Malfoy was the type to laugh while setting an enraged Hippogriff on you, and then to run away squealing like a girl when it turned on him.

Severus' lip curled as he pulled the Mokeskin Pouch out from under his robes, producing a shrunken outfit from within.

"Will this satisfy his Lordship?" he sneered while tugging the robes over his teaching ones. He Vanished the robes underneath; no use getting them dirty if the Dark Lord was in a 'festive' mood.

Lucius huffed and stormed off towards the Manor. Severus rolled his eyes, secured his mask, and hurried after him.

"You have no idea what he's been like recently!" Lucius whined when Severus caught up with him. "It's not as if he gave me a choice to have him as a houseguest after Riddle Manor fell down, but now he's taken over! You don't even want to know what his latest obsession has become."

Severus felt a chill creep up his spine. "Not Cheering Charms, again?"

"Yes! Bursting into song while walking down the corridors, terrifying the house-elves by skipping through the kitchens, and last, but definitely not least, yelling 'I love the world!' from the top of the North Tower every night! Severus, you have to do something!"

"Hush, keep your voice down." They had entered the Manor and were fast approaching the main drawing room. "I can try slipping some Sobrietus Potion in his drink again, but I don't know if it will work."

"Severus, your Sobrietus Potion can make a sober man cry. Give it to him!"

"As you wish," Severus smirked, visibly gloating at the other man being forced to ask for his help when, normally, Malfoy wouldn't give him the time of day. However, the amusement was swept off his face a moment later as they came to a stop outside the huge double doors and Severus heard his 'Master's' voice.

"_Laetissimus!_" An infinitesimal pause. "Heee, heee, heee, heee!"

Oh. Dear. God.

Severus swept into the room and knelt at his Master's feet. "I am here as you requested, My Lord," he murmured while kissing the hem of the Dark Lord's robes.

"Severus, good-good, glad you are here. I always miss your visage so much. Your nose is so amusing!"

Severus resisted the urge to bang his bowed forehead against the floor. "Yes, My Lord, I am most unfortunate. It has been like this since birth."

"Heee, heee, heee!"

Severus gritted his teeth. Yes, he definitely preferred it when the Dark Lord was Crucio-ing everybody in sight – at least then he got to see snooty snots like Malfoy writhe.

"My Lord!" he exclaimed, sitting bolt upright when he could stand the asinine laughter no more. "I took the liberty of brewing this potion to help make you stronger!"

The laughter stopped, and the Dark Lord reached out eagerly and took the phial Severus had produced. "Are you sure Severus? It looks awfully like Sobrietus Potion to me."

"Yes, My Lord. It is based on the formula, but instead gives you more control over your magic." The Dark Lord trustingly lifted the phial to his lips, and chugged back the liquid.

Severus had to suppress laughter as every Death Eater in the room, including Bellatrix, clasped both hands together and mouthed 'Thank you!' at him.

"Ah, yes, I see what you mean Severus. _Crucio!"_

Rodolphus fell to the floor, screaming, while everyone else watched dispassionately. "Now, what news does my favourite Potions Master have for me?"

"I believe Dumbledore is beginning to suspect my loyalties, My Lord."

"Indeed?" The red eyes flashed, promising pain, and Severus gulped. It was a risky gamble, but if it paid off, it would be worth it.

"Yes, but through no fault of my own. The plants at the Ministry have been indiscreet and are now being watched by several Order members. Dumbledore wants to know why I have not informed him of this."

Anger radiated off the Dark Lord. "_Crucio!_" Rodolphus fell screaming to the floor again, and Severus was beginning to wonder if Rodolphus was really to blame, or if the Dark Lord just couldn't be bothered to move his wrist. Severus surreptitiously shuffled to his right.

"Severus, you shall inform the old fool that I will be launching an attack on Azkaban next Tuesday. I shall send all those I deem incompetent along. Let the Aurors bag whomever they choose! You are all dismissed. I am too distressed to work with you tonight!"

"Yes, My Lord," Severus murmured as the Dark Lord rose and swept from the room. He hauled himself to his feet, stretching out his aching joints, and eyed the rest of the Death Eaters, who were still looking at him with starry-eyed admiration.

_Time to beat a hasty retreat_. He may now be a favoured Death Eater among the ranks, but the last thing he wanted was one of them offering him a Muggle as a 'reward'. The damn things were almost impossible to get rid of!

The last one he'd relieved from their care had kept insisting that he was her 'hero,' and that he must marry her immediately. Needless to say, she ended up sitting outside Dumbledore's office, tears pouring down her face while the old man offered her a sherbet lemon.

That was one experience he could do without a repeat of.

Gratifyingly, he only had to wait until the following morning at the breakfast table to see the results of his work the previous night.

"Severus, look at this! Several Ministry workers have gone missing from their posts with no sign of a struggle. I wonder how that happened!"

Albus hid his face behind the paper, before turning to Severus and mouthing, "Well done!"

Severus left the Hall, and was carefully ensconced in his dungeons before he allowed himself to preen.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven:**

* * *

Hermione was currently engaged in an activity she scorned and derided. She was daydreaming in History of Magic.

If she were perfectly honest with herself, she would have given this subject up the second she had the chance, but, as all core subjects were mandatory at N.E.W.T. level, regardless of the grade at O.W.L., she had to soldier on. Yes, magic was utterly fascinating, but there were limits to the number of monotonous lectures on Goblin Rebellions that even Hermione could suffer through.

Besides, Hermione had more important things on her mind. Mainly concerning her detention last night with Professor Snape…

oooOOOooo

Hermione had kept the connection between Harry and Ron's minds open as long as she could while travelling down to the dungeons, but their rousing chorus of 'Ninety Nine Bottles of Butterbeer on the Wall' had petered out by the second floor. Now Hermione was completely alone with her own thoughts as she raised her hand to knock on the door to the Potions classroom.

"Enter!" the harsh voice snapped, and Hermione eased herself inside.

The room had been completely transformed. All of the long student desks had been pushed to the sides of the room save one, which was placed directly across the middle of the empty space and laden with potion ingredients.

Professor Snape stood a couple of feet away from it, stirring a huge cauldron placed where his desk normally sat. The back of the room had been raised a step higher by the Founders in an obvious bid to separate the teachers' domain from the students' in all of the classrooms and now Snape stood upon this dais, crooked over his cauldron like a vulture over prey.

Hermione suspected that Professor Snape found this arrangement much to his liking as it meant he could loom over the first years without having to get close to them.

"Sir?" she swallowed. "Should I… um, get started, Professor?"

"Of course you should, you stupid girl! I am not about to hold your hand through the whole process. Now stop distracting me and get on with it." Hermione rushed to follow his pointing finger and set her cauldron up on the one end of the long table that was not covered in his more advanced ingredients.

In no time at all she had the base of Murtlap essence simmering gently and her set of ingredients open beside her, the box containing them placed next to the few extras she had collected from the student stores. The absorbing activity of chopping, grinding and mincing captured her attention and slowly drew her into a world where only she and the potion existed.

This illusion was shattered by a sharp knock on the Potions classroom door. Hermione tried not to start, bending further over her cauldron when the Professor sent a scowl in her direction.

"Enter!" he snapped again. The door opened and Hermione peered incredulously from under her eyelashes as the imposing form of the Headmaster stepped into the room. Professor Snape looked less than pleased.

"Ah, Severus, I see you are busy just now. Minerva asked me to give you this, and as I was coming to see you anyway…" Professor Dumbledore placed a neatly wrapped package on the table and stood to one side. Hermione watched Professor Snape's scowl deepen once it became obvious that the Headmaster had no intention of leaving.

"As you said, Headmaster," Snape drawled, "I have more than enough on my hands just now; please shut the door on your way out."

"No trouble, Severus." The Headmaster feigned deafness very well. "I'll just wait until you're finished over there."

The resulting snarl was barely audible but Hermione heard it, and judging from the half-smile the Headmaster wore, so did he.

"Very well! What matter of great magnitude has brought you down here, sir?"

"Not so formal, Severus, we are friends after all!"

The vicious sneer sent in Hermione's direction caused her to drop her eyes and concentrate on the potion in front of her. She found herself wondering if both Headmaster and Professor would be friends for very much longer if Dumbledore kept this up.

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "The Minister has decided that it would be a good idea to come and inspect Hogwarts personally sometime next week. During his stay, we must try our hardest to dissuade him from returning for another inspection anytime in the near future." His eyes twinkled and Hermione had to bite her tongue to keep from laughing out loud, visions of bilious robes and uncontrollable students dancing in her head.

"I see." Snape's lips twitched. "And this is why you have insisted on discussing this in front of Miss Granger?"

Hermione sincerely hoped that she imitated deafness as well as the Headmaster.

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean, Severus."

_How can one man twinkle that much?_ It looked like the Headmaster was lighting up the dungeon.

"Indeed," Snape grunted. "Help me with this, Albus." Hermione looked up in time to see the two men lifting a massive cauldron lid from the corner of the room and setting it atop Professor Snape's cauldron with a loud clang.

While it was still resonating, she could have sworn she heard the Headmaster ask, "_Any luck with the spoon?"_ and the Professor's curt reply, "_No, the little cretins in question have made themselves scarce."_

But then, she could have imagined it.

With this, the Headmaster took his leave, "Goodnight, Severus. Goodnight, Miss Granger!", and swept from the room. Still thinking about all she had heard, she was barely able to murmur a 'Goodnight' herself before the door swung closed.

Hermione looked down. She was nearly done on the potion; maybe after she had finished she could leave. She picked up the last ingredient – paprika – and readied herself to gently tip it into the cauldron. Unfortunately, it was at this precise moment that Hermione's allergy to this particular spice decided to make itself known.

She sneezed, directly over the cauldron, causing the rest of the paprika to drop in with a loud splash. The mixture gurgled, stilled, and then erupted all over her – barely giving her time to slam her hands over her nose, mouth and eyes.

She heard Professor Snape murmur an incantation that vanished the liquid before it could burn her, then silence.

Slowly, she opened her eyes, which were still slightly swollen from coming into close contact with the remnants of the paprika, to see Professor Snape watching her with the oddest expression on his face.

"Why, Miss Granger," he purred. "What silky hair you have." His entire face seemed to twitch and he quickly turned to brace his hands against the ingredients table.

Shocked, Hermione ran a hand through her hair, encountering silky smooth locks that reached down past the middle of her back. She gasped in wonderment and turned to the still-silent Professor.

"Professor? Professor Snape?" There was no response. Hesitantly, she reached out and lightly placed a hand on his shoulder. It was shaking. "Professor, are you all right?"

Professor Snape drew in a deep breath. "Fine, Miss Granger." His voice sounded tight, as though he were suppressing some emotion.

_He's laughing at me!_ Hermione realised. Frowning, she pulled a lock of her hair in front of her. _But why? What's so funny about it? It's just long and silky and shiny and…_

**_Pink!_**

oooOOOooo

_Yes_, Hermione thought. _I deserve to at least be a little preoccupied._

Luckily she had got back to her dorm late last night, meaning there was no one about to see her shame. All measures both she and Professor Snape had taken to rid her of the pink plague, short of cutting it all off, had failed.

The Professor had sent her off half an hour before curfew. Hermione being Hermione had gone straight to the place she was most certain that could help her, and had spent the next four hours safely ensconced in the library, but there was no use in denying it anymore.

She was now a Tonks look-alike.

Also, the thing that was most adding to her current state of distress was that the attention the class usually paid to the window in History of Magic was now riveted to her head. This attention had not changed for the past hour. She counted herself lucky that she had managed to stop Harry and Ron's sniggering after only half an hour.

_Maybe_, Hermione mused. _If they're really, really nice to me for the rest of the day, I might just tell them about the Minister's visit and the fact that Dumbledore is counting on us for mayhem._

oooOOOooo

Severus sat in front of his class of Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors, sneering without really seeing them. Now that he had had time to sort out last night's meeting with the Dark Lord in his head, his mind moved on to the other events of the evening.

The image of a not-so-bushy-haired Gryffindor floated to the forefront of his consciousness and he would have been hard pressed not to giggle, but for one thing. Severus Snape did not giggle.

It was pretty hilarious though – her appearance seemed determined to make a fool out of her no matter what she did. The idea of Hermione Granger with hair the same colour as the Headmaster's robes was just ridiculous. The reality was even worse.

Though once you got past the idea that it was a straight-laced bookworm in ownership of the shocking mop, you had to admit that the mop in question suited her. In fact, if Severus hadn't been so busy choking down his chuckles the night before, he might have even realised that the sight of Granger with long, silky hair was a good one.

He shook his head. Now, or any other instance, was not the time to consider whether or not one's students were attractive – especially not now, when he needed to prevent Stebbings from adding his fourth bat wing to the already frothing cauldron. Honestly, what planet was that child on?


	8. Chapter 8

_'mindspeak'_

* * *

**Chapter Eight:**

* * *

Harry Potter held his breath as he crept up and into the dorm room. A few days after he had stopped teasing Hermione and instead started to call her brand new, pink hair 'gorgeous, striking and elegantly unusual' whilst giving her the most blatant puppy-dog eyes ever seen in the history of kissing-up, she had finally stopped ignoring Ron and him and told them about the upcoming visit from the Minister.

This was too good an opportunity to pass up to get back at Fudge for the 'Umbridge Incident.'

Harry grinned maliciously as he remembered the perfect plan that Seamus, Dean, Ron and he had cooked up. True, he apparently had one of the most difficult parts of said task to accomplish, but it wouldn't do for Seamus and Dean to know precisely what he had up his metaphorical sleeve.

It was spoon-shaped.

Harry dove into his trunk and pulled out the rosewood box from underneath a pile of Uncle Vernon's old socks, tapping it once and murmuring, 'Remember Neville.'

He idly wondered what new keyword he would add at the end of this year. _Probably 'spoon'_, he thought with amusement. He always thought it was overkill to add a password to a box that only you could open, but then again, you could never be too careful.

He reached into the box and pulled out the spoon, passing his wand over it and murmuring, "_Imita Cocleare!_" and within seconds he was holding two identical spoons. Grinning, he shut the original back in the box and hastened to leave the deserted dorm.

The duplicate only lasted two hours and he had a Snape to catch!

His amusement stalled slightly as he noticed his sleeve had fallen down to the elbow, revealing multiple white scars etched onto his inner arm. Grimly he pulled the sleeve back into place. He didn't want to think about it. He knew he had been an idiot the previous summer, but he didn't want to think about it. He had to be strong for his friends' sake. They all had a Dark Lord to defeat one day, and if he wanted to accomplish that, he couldn't indulge in this petty, self-pitying habit of his. It helped no one.

As he descended into the Common Room, the necessary spoon tucked in his pocket, he spotted Hermione sitting over by the fire with her head buried in yet another book. He settled on the sofa arm beside her.

"Let me guess, 'Hogwarts: a History?'"

Hermione hunched farther over her book. "No, actually. It's 'Bold and Beautiful; a Witch's Guide to Self-Care.'"

Harry gaped at her. "Wow, Hermione, I never knew you were into that stuff. Good for you!"

"No, Harry Potter, I am not into that stuff! You would be reading this too if you suddenly discovered that all of your body hair had inexplicably turned PINK!"

Harry gulped, backing away from the sofa and the crazy person, whose face had now turned the same colour as her hair. Looking around, he noticed that all the blokes in the Common Room were now staring at Hermione with a decidedly hungry look in their eyes.

_Each to their own,_ Harry thought as he hurried towards the portrait hole.

"Harry James Potter!" Harry gulped and turned back towards the menace. "You'd better not be creeping off into mischief while I'm busy!"

"No, Hermione, I was just going to find Ron so that I could leave you to your… preening." Harry was out of the portrait hole in time to hear her book hit the back of the canvas instead of him.

Right, time to find Ron…

_'Ron? Ron? Where are you, mate?'_

Silence.

_'In your head, you numpkin!'_ Harry thought as he rolled his eyes.

_'Harry, Dean and Seamus are looking at me weirdly, what do I do?'_

_'Well, as they've just witnessed you talking to yourself, I'm not surprised. Where are you all?'_

_'Room of Requirement. Think of a plotting room to get in. Harry, Dean's edging away from me!'_

_'Deal with it until I get there, then I'll distract them. Did you get the Polyjuice Potion?'_

_'Yeah, for some reason Snape had tons. Hurry, Seamus is edging away from me as well!'_

_'That's because you look constipated when you use the bond, Ron!'_ Harry exclaimed. He broke the connection and ran towards the Room of Requirement before Ron could dig himself into an even deeper hole.

As far as Harry could see, when he skidded to a halt in their designated Headquarters, he'd arrived just in time. Dean and Seamus were sitting against the opposite wall from Ron, and were engaging in a staring competition with the red-haired boy, whose ears were trying to imitate his hair.

"Right!" Harry exclaimed while clapping his hands to gain everyone's attention. "The thing we're going to use to lure Snape is in my possession. I'm guessing you didn't have any problems with the Polyjuice?" He paused while they shook their heads. "Great! Now, we all know the Minister is coming to the castle this evening, and while I'm sure plenty of minor pranks from the others will keep him occupied, we have to be sure ours will stand out enough to go down in the history books. Seamus, you still okay to do the song?"

"Sure, Harry, as long as you can keep Snape away, it'll be great!"

Harry grinned. Snape owed him for that nasty comment in Potions. True, he had apologised to Harry, but that only took care of Harry's hurt feelings regarding the issue. His anger and thirst for revenge, however, were another matter entirely. Sometimes Harry wondered if he were more Slytherin than he first thought.

"Right, everyone knows their positions; let's move out! We have us a Snape to catch, and a Minister to traumatise!" Harry grabbed the phial of Polyjuice and marched towards the door. This was going to be so much fun!

Severus stood at the end of the corridor and stared. _Could I actually be this fortunate?_ he thought to himself. _Or is it just a joke to trick their nasty, old Potions Master?_

He crept along the corridor, checking for Trip Jinxes or any other form of magic that might show that this was anything other than what it appeared to be.

Having completed his surveillance of the area, Severus stopped a few feet away from his goal, booted heels making no noise as he simply observed the phenomenon.

His soup spoon lay innocently to one side of the corridor, almost as though it had dropped out of someone's bag or pocket. Wrinkling his nose he took one step forward, then another, and then another, until he was standing directly in front of it.

Nothing seemed to be amiss. He glanced up and down the silent corridor; no one was in sight. It was at times like this that he wished he had the equivalent to Potter's map to check if he were truly alone.

Making a split second decision, he jerked his hand out, viper-quick, and snatched the spoon off the floor, holding it high and flicking his eyes from side to side in paranoia.

Nothing happened. Severus started to feel rather silly, standing in the corridor and holding his spoon as though he were about to bludgeon someone with it. He lowered it sheepishly and turned towards the dungeons, gloating at his easy repossession of the spoon, even if the need for plotting how to get it back was no longer necessary.

Something hit the back of his neck with a soft thump, the shock at first masking the sharp sting of impact. Frowning, Severus raised his hand to his neck and pulled out a dart with a red feather attached. _It looks rather like the things that Muggles use to subdue wild game with,_ he thought offhandedly as the world started to take on a red tint.

With a soft rustle and a thump, the Potion Master slid unconscious to the floor with the tranquilising dart still held tightly in his right hand.

* * *

'Imita Cocleare' - Latin for 'to copy' and 'spoon'.


	9. Chapter 9

Before you read this chapter, I would advise going to " uk. youtube watch? v=BHb5lKVF7Dk" and listening to the song there for context. I DID NOT MAKE THIS VIDEO.

I apologise wholeheartedly in advance for the sheer insanity of the chapter...

_'mindspeak'_

* * *

**Chapter Nine:**

* * *

Ron stared down at the heap of black robes – which just happened to be the very robes that currently contained their Potions Master – and grinned. _Payback time for all Gryffindors on the Greasy Git!_ He reached down and viciously yanked a single strand of black hair from Snape's head while Harry carefully cast '_Imita,' _allowing Seamus to get a copy of the Professor's robes to wear instead of his own.

"Here," Ron said as he yanked the black boots off and handed them to Seamus. "Better take his boots in case those robes change back too soon. You don't want to be stranded in the middle of the Great Hall with nothing on your feet, especially when your clothing's just disappeared."

"Eww, Snape's boots," Seamus sneered, taking them from Ron and holding them as though they were poisonous. "Just what I don't need," he moaned.

Harry gave Ron a glare which clearly said, _How dare you even think of questioning my spell work!_ before grabbing the strand of Snape's hair from him and turning back to the simmering Polyjuice.

They all headed back to the Room of Requirement again. Travelling through the corridors with one of their teachers being levitated under the Invisibility Cloak was rather awkward, but luckily they hadn't met anyone along the way. Just as well, really, especially seeing how it would have been rather difficult to explain had they been caught...

Now they had all the essential ingredients for the prank in one place. The only thing left to do was to execute it.

"Hey, Dean?"

Dean looked up from where he was binding Snape's hands together with a length of rope. "Yeah?"

"That was amazing how you nailed him with the blowpipe! Where did you learn to do that?"

"Oh. Thanks, Ron. Gran wanted me to be a vet when I was older so she kept taking me to lessons for using an air rifle or blow pipe (she was, uh, kind of obsessed with Africa), along with extra chemistry, extra biology and a lot of my spare time spent down the local practice. She kept saying that it would all come in useful one day. Guess she was right!" Dean said as he yanked the rope tighter.

The four boys grinned evilly.

"Snape certainly wasn't expecting a non-magical attack!" Harry crowed. "Now, people, it's almost dinner. Dean, you need to stay here and _Stupefy_ Snape if he looks like he's waking up. Don't worry; I'll make sure Colin gets a shot of the action you can see later. Okay, Seamus, you take the Invisibility Cloak and stand outside the teachers' entrance to the Great Hall, and when it's dinner-time, take the Polyjuice and go straight in…"

"Yes, Harry, we know. We have been over the plan about a million times already," Seamus said, rolling his eyes.

Harry looked sheepish. "Sorry. As everyone's ready, let's go!"

Seamus disappeared under the Invisibility Cloak, Dean sat down beside an unconscious, blindfolded Snape and Harry and Ron strolled casually towards the Gryffindor Common Room to meet up with Hermione.

As luck would have it, they caught her just as she stepped out the portrait hole. Being Hermione, she gave them a suspicious look the second she caught sight of them.

"Where have you two been?" she snapped at them.

Ron shrugged. "Just wandering around the castle. Thought we'd let you have a good look at that book to see if you could fix your hair." He picked up a strand of her colourful locks. "Still no luck, then?"

"No," Hermione snarled, yanking her hair out of his grasp. "Not even hair dye works, and Professor Snape has already gone through all the options he can think of to reverse it. I'm stuck like this!" she wailed.

"Aww, Hermione!" Ron wrapped his arm around her shoulders, crossing his fingers behind her back and hoping that she would calm down if he flattered her ego a bit. "It looks good on you though. It's just a bit surprising to all of us who already knew you. Give it a few years and you won't even notice the change anymore."

It worked. Hermione sniffled a little and leaned on his shoulder. "When did you get so wise, Ron?" she whispered. She pulled away from him and looked back. "Harry, hurry up! If you keep dawdling like that, we'll miss dinner!"

Ron looked back, puzzled. Harry seemed to have dropped back ever since Ron put his arm around Hermione. _Weird, I wonder why he did that? I thought he wanted to see how the prank played out._

Ron never got a chance to ask as, at that moment, they entered the Great Hall. Ron felt butterflies start to dance about in his stomach as he looked up and saw Snape at the High Table. _This is it!_

Soon, everyone was at their seats in the Great Hall: the Minister for Magic to the left of Dumbledore with McGonagall on Fudge's other side. Seamus was sitting on Dumbledore's right and looking so Snape-like that Ron was almost fooled for a second. The butterflies turned into snakes and Ron clenched his hands under the table. _Any minute now!_

Dumbledore rose to his feet. "Before our sumptuous feast this evening can begin, it is my pleasure to announce that Cornelius Fudge, the Minister for Magic, shall be joining us as he takes the time to inspect our humble school–"

Dumbledore's words were cut short as dance music resounded throughout the Great Hall, not noisy enough to cover the students' murmurs of surprise, but loud enough to be considered a backing track. Everyone gasped as, after the opening bars, Professor Snape stood up on his chair and started to sing, in that dark chocolate tone of his, whistling the appropriate refrains in between the lines.

After the first chorus was finished, he climbed onto the table and started sashaying down towards the Minister. Most of the Hogwarts staff were wearing extremely comical 'Snape has gone insane' faces.

Stopping in front of the Minister, who was doing a very good impression of a landed halibut, he wiggled his hips and jumped backwards off the table, turned towards the students and started belting out the chorus.

By this point the whole Hall was in hysterics, though because of Snape or Fudge, Ron couldn't quite tell. Colin was snapping pictures left, right and centre, Dumbledore and McGonagall were clapping in time to the music, and some of the Muggle-borns were waving their hands back and forth in the air. It was complete pandemonium and Ron was loving every minute.

The Minister had turned purple and was sputtering incoherently, looking like he was about to have a coronary as Snape continued to croon at him, moving his hips as though he were attempting some kind of slow motion belly-dance.

Seamus waved his hands in the air and belted out, "All together now!" before leading the school in the rousing chorus; even though most people were singing the tune to 'la'.

Seamus finally noticed that the Minister's body-guards had had enough – they were hulking towards him, cracking their knuckles – because he was backing away while continuing to sing at the top of his lungs.

After a final repetition of the chorus, Seamus decided to cut his losses and high-tailed it out of the Great Hall, easily outdistancing the security guards, leaving the music still blaring and most of the students rolling in the aisles. Ron and Harry took advantage of the pandemonium and slipped out after Seamus, pelting back to the Room of Requirement the second they were out of sight of everyone.

This was the tricky part, the part that if they did it right, would mean they would get away with the whole prank.

By the time they got back to the Room, Seamus was already changing back into himself and, with Dean's help, was yanking off the Potions Master's boots before tugging his school shoes on. The real Snape remained peacefully oblivious.

Dean looked up as the two of them entered. "He hasn't stirred once; hurry before the tranquiliser wears off!"

Harry levitated the trussed up Snape while Ron threw the Invisibility Cloak over the floating body, and they left the Room at a run. Seconds later Dean and Seamus followed, running back towards the Great Hall, leaving Ron and Harry to dispose of the last of the evidence.

Several staircases and dim corridors later, they dumped the still tied up Snape on one of the Hospital Wing beds and sprinted back to the Great Hall, praying it wasn't too late. They only just made it.

A few seconds after they had squeezed back into their seats, Dumbledore located the spelled CD player and silenced the repeating song. It appeared they had missed the Minister's blood-pressure peaking, and his resulting collapse that had Madam Pomfrey fussing over him, but then, they could always ask Dean and Seamus about it later.

The four connivers grinned at each other, proud of their accomplishment, before noticing Hermione's expression. She was currently glaring at them, doing a very good impression of a thundercloud. A pink thundercloud.

The colour, somehow, made her all the more frightening.

The four of them gulped and Ron prodded Harry's mind. '_Maybe we can _Obliviate_ her while we still have the chance?_'

Harry's fervent nodding only reassured him only a tiny bit.

oooOOOooo

Severus groaned and rolled over onto his side. He felt like he'd been hit by a Hippogriff. _What the hell happened to me?_ It was then he noticed two things.

One, he was in the Infirmary.

Two, he was tied up.

He snarled and struggled wildly for a few minutes before giving up and collapsing back on the bed. Whoever had bound him certainly knew what they were doing.

Five frustrating minutes later – during which time Severus occupied himself by glaring at the ceiling – he heard voices, and looked over at the Hospital Wing doors as they swung open. A throng of people led by Poppy Pomfrey marched in. Severus frowned. He would have to ask later why the Minister appeared to be unconscious.

He cleared his throat and addressed the mob which had stopped dead and were staring at him in utter disbelief, "Albus, those little bastards have gone too far this time! Not only did they attack a member of staff; they knocked me unconscious and tied me up! What are you going to do about it?"

There was a slight pause as everyone continued to stare at him as though he had grown two heads. Slowly, Severus became aware that Albus and Minerva were folding over with silent laughter. That was never a good sign. He closed his eyes and waited in dread to discover what had happened...


	10. Chapter 10

_'mindspeak'_

* * *

**Chapter Ten:**

* * *

Harry and Ron were hiding from her. This, among other things, was greatly vexing Hermione. Not only did she have to go searching all over the castle for them, to give them a piece of her mind, she also had to attempt to enact some kind of damage control.

Which, of course, she couldn't do without first finding out what the boys had actually done. It was obvious to her that they had done something, which was more than enough reason for Hermione to tear into them like a lioness would into two chunks of raw meat when she next saw them. Unfortunately, as is said before, she could not actually find them.

Pausing in her quest, Hermione leaned against the nearest wall to gather her thoughts. Or, at least, she tried to. It would have been easier if there hadn't been two bodies in between her and the wall.

"Ah ha!" she cried, whirling around and drawing her wand. "Come out and face me, you cowards!" If anyone had been passing by, she would have looked like a crazy person, ready to do battle with an innocent wall, but Hermione, of course, knew better.

Slowly, reluctantly, the air in front of her shimmered and Harry and Ron appeared, looking ashamed.

"Pasty?" Harry asked, waving the food at her. The boys had a veritable hoard of food underneath the Cloak which was evidently from a recent raid of the kitchens. They certainly wouldn't have managed to grab this much food while fleeing from the Gryffindor table the second the teachers had exited the Hall!

The sight of Ron stuffing baby tomatoes into his mouth as though she was about to take them away cooled Hermione's ire a little.

"Oh, all right!" She grabbed the pasty. "Come along, we have to talk." Tapping her wand five times upon the forehead of 'Udell the Unusual,' she stepped back as the portrait swung forward and gestured for Harry and Ron to precede her.

"Now," she said after the portrait closed behind them and the appropriate Silencing Charms were in place, "tell me everything you did to orchestrate that display, so that I might be able to rectify the damage!" She settled down upon the dusty floor, shuffling over to make room for Harry and Ron, who sat down beside her.

"Oo oos bi orsh en or engree!"

"Ron, cease the hamster impression before attempting to talk! Harry, if you would."

"Maybe we should continue this conversation silently, just in case."

"Oh, very well!"

Mentally, they all felt their strands of consciousness weave together – one of gold, one of silver, and one of red. They all took advantage of the temporary pause in conversation to start in on their impromptu dinner. Hermione spoke first.

_'What in the hell did you think you were doing? Have you lost your minds? We need to keep Snape's thoughts away from us! Do you really think he isn't going to work night and day to find the people who humiliated him like this?'_

Harry and Ron shuffled their feet in embarrassment and said nothing at first

Eventually Harry met her eye and replied, _'All right, it was a stupid plan, even though it all worked out so beautifully at the time... and we're sorry.'_ At this point Harry nudged Ron, who nodded before continuing the narrative.

_'Yeah, really sorry. Um, so, basically, we lured Snape in with a copy of the spoon, Dean nailed him with blow pipe, we all shanghai-ed Snape up to the Room of Requirement, stole his boots and gave them to Seamus so that he could sing 'Despre Tine' in the Great Hall as Snape.'_ Ron blushed brightly and stared at his feet.

Hermione eyed Ron coldly. _'As if! Tell me the truth Ronald Weasley, and don't you dare lie this time!'_

Harry cleared his throat. _'Actually, Hermione, that is the whole truth, and what's more, it worked!'_

Hermione stared, first at Ron and then at Harry, before the awful realisation hit her. They really were telling the truth. Hermione moaned and placed her head onto her knees, rocking back and forth slightly. _'How on Earth am I supposed to clear this mess up?'_

_'Err, Hermione?'_ Hermione raised her head and glared at Harry. He swallowed. _'You do know that we can still hear you, don't you?'_

_'Bollocks!'_

_'Now, now, Miss Granger! What would your parents think if they caught you using filthy language like that?'_

_'Shut UP, Ron! Do you have any idea of how much trouble we're in? How Snape is going to barbeque us before he even considers expulsion?'_ Hermione whimpered a little and hid her head in her lap. After a minute, Harry shuffled over and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Ron did the same on the other side.

_'We're not completely stupid you know,'_ Harry thought after a long pause in which the trio gained silent comfort from each other. _'I've already told Snape that I didn't steal the spoon, and he didn't find anything in our memories that proved we were the spoon stealers, remember? Therefore Snape is going to conclude that we are not to blame and ignore us in favour of going after the 'real' perpetrators. He thinks someone else has the spoon, and therefore will think someone else must have used the spoon to trick him. There's no way he can trace it back to us, especially other people would be able to confirm that we were all in the Great Hall at the time the fun started!'_

Hermione stared up at her best friend in astonishment, her mouth slightly open. _'Mr Potter, that's brilliant!'_ Even in her head, the words sounded a bit dazed. _'And you say there's no way to trace this prank back to us? That we're scott free?'_

Harry grinned. _'Yep! I thought it would be a good idea for me to start practicing impossible schemes, so that I'm ready when the time comes for me to finish Voldy off once and for all.'_ Suddenly, his face fell. _'Shit! Dean and Seamus! They can't do Occlumency!'_ Harry leapt to his feet. _'I'll go and get them. Anyone here know how to do Obliviate? If not, we're going to have to learn fast before Snape decides to take a peek into their minds!'_

Harry leapt towards the back of the portrait, only to be halted by Hermione's voice in his head.

_'Harry! Harry! Stop! Ron knows them better. Don't you think he should be the one to go and fetch them? Besides, I want a word with you about something!'_

Looking bewildered, Harry came and sat back down while Ron got up to leave, severing their connection as he went. The portrait clicked shut behind him and silence descended once more.

"Hermione? You wanted to talk about something?"

Hermione looked down and bit her lip, wondering how she was going to breach the subject with him. She couldn't just leave the issue alone; it was already annoying enough as it was. No matter how embarrassing discussing it might be, it would be worth it. Taking a deep breath, she began.

"Err, Harry, Ron and I aren't going out together. In fact, we aren't going to ever go out with each other. Ever, Harry."

"Really?" Harry asked, looking dumbfounded.

"Really, Harry," Hermione replied, trying to sound apologetic.

"That's great!"

Hermione gaped at Harry, who was grinning unrepentantly.

He sent her a mock-serious look. "No offence, Hermione, but you and Ron would make a truly awful couple!"

oooOOOooo

Severus Snape snarled. He was very good at snarling. Most of the time, he only did it to garner a reaction out of someone he was intimidating, but this time it was a genuine snarl of anger. In fact, if it wasn't so undignified, he probably would be foaming at the mouth at this point.

His hands were aching from being tied up for so long, and his head was pounding from whatever had knocked him out for over two hours. Severus stormed along the corridor leading towards the staff common room, promising all kinds of dire retribution upon those who were responsible for his humiliation.

Due to the rather large disruption during dinner, Albus had decided that it would be best if all the students finished their meals in the Common Rooms – away from the irate Ministry security guards. After untying Severus (still choking on his chuckles at finding his Potions Professor in such a position), Albus had informed the teachers of his plans and had told them that they would be doing the same in the staff room.

If it had been up to Severus, he would have missed this particular gathering all together as his colleagues were no doubt going to feel obliged to rub his nose in this disgrace as much as possible. However, Severus was hungry, and some imbecile had locked the kitchens.

Severus suspected that it might have been Albus.

So, this was why, at quarter to nine at night, Severus could be found making his way towards the staff room in a very foul temper.

Pausing outside the door, Severus gritted his teeth, listening to the inane chatter on the other side and prepared himself for the ridicule he was bound to be subjected to. The two stone guardians eyed him bemusedly, but quickly looked away when he sneered at them. They knew he wasn't above hexing the living daylights out of them when he was in such a terrible mood. They still bore the scars from their last encounter, two months previously.

Severus took a deep breath, scowled, and flung open the door, letting it bang against the wall as he strode forward into complete silence. Every member of staff was staring studiously at their plates and refusing to look at him. His scowl now more uncertain, Severus took his seat between Minerva and Pomona on the circular table and stared at his own plate, waiting for the storm to break.

Sure enough, after five minutes in which no one moved or said anything, the silence was broken by several loud snorts of laughter and someone started whistling a few bars of a song.

Snarling audibly, Severus head snapped up and he glared at Vector, who attempted to look innocent by shoving a large forkful of potatoes into her mouth to stifle her giggles. Giving a long-suffering sigh, Severus turned and pounded a shaking Minerva on the back to prevent her from choking.

After a couple of minutes, the laughter subsided and Albus waved his hand to gain their attention.

"Now, now, I think that's enough. After all, though it was a rather fantastic prank, I'm sure Severus has already heard more about it than he ever wanted to."

"Quite right!" Severus snapped, shooting Albus a grateful look as he started eating his lukewarm cottage pie. "Thanks to whoever thought up this 'brilliant' idea, I am now the laughing stock of the entire school! Not one of the students will respect me after this; every class I attempt to teach will be undisguised bedlam! Headmaster, you'd better say that you've caught the nasty little creatures responsible for this."

"I'm afraid not." Albus looked extremely apologetic, but that didn't necessarily mean anything. "Whoever's idea this was, they covered their tracks very well. However, I suspect the ridicule was more directed towards the Minister than towards you, Severus. Who knows, some of the students might even come up and congratulate you for giving the Minister a well deserved shock!"

"Humph!"

Minerva passed Severus the pepper in an attempt to stop him from continuing to rant about the kidnapping and his subsequent humiliation. It did not work.

At least, not at first.

"Really, Albus, the troublemakers should be caught and made an example of! Don't you think it's necessa… _achoo, achoo, achoo._"

_Thump._

Albus peered over the edge of the table. "Are you all right down there, Severus?"

"Fine Albus," Severus groaned back from the floor.

Sprout stood up and walked over to try and help him up.

"Ggrrrrrrrrrr!"

Pomona backed hastily out of range.

Severus got to his feet and tried to find his tattered dignity, only to discover that it was no longer present. He was about to leave when Albus spoke.

"One moment, everyone. I would like to hold a staff meeting at four o'clock tomorrow – that should fit in with all of your schedules?"

Severus nodded his consent and strode from the room, wondering if it were possible to brew a potion to prevent blushing.

* * *

_A/N: Ron's near-incomprehensible words (which, cleverly, I forgot the meaning of almost as soon as I wrote it...): 'You use big words when you're angry.' Just in case you were wondering ^_^_


	11. Chapter 11

_'mindspeak'_

* * *

**Chapter Eleven:**

* * *

Hermione sat in one corner of the cramped space, sulking. She had intended to keep her black mood in place until Ron returned, but her dark-haired friend had other ideas.

"You could have at least warned me, you know? Maybe a polite hint here, a discreet insinuation there to let me know what was really going on? I've been working my arse off trying to make space for you guys, and what thanks do I get? I ask you!"

Hermione sent Harry the darkest of her glares. It didn't seem to have any effect. He was still grinning like a maniac and looking ready to burst into laughter at any second.

"If you've _quite_ finished winding me up…" Hermione paused here to see if her words had had any effect. The outrageous grin seemed slightly more thoughtful, but apart from that, nothing else had changed. "You could consider telling me what we're going to do once Dean and Seamus actually _get _here. Have you ever cast Obliviate?"

The grin faded. "No, but we both know the theory, remember? All that research you did for the DA is about to come in handy."

Hermione put her head in her hands. "Harry, we've never actually cast the spell before. Ministry Obliviators practice on animals for months before they're let anywhere near a human. Months, Harry!"

She didn't even realise she was twisting the hem of her robes in her hands until Harry reached over and grabbed her fingers.

"OK, Hermione, so Obliviate won't work for this. They're our friends after all; we don't want to scramble their brains. Why don't we try 'Obscuris'? That would stand up against Legilimency, and the beauty of it is that the caster would only have to say 'Lux' and their memories would be restored! Pity we never got round to teaching the DA that one, it's awesome!"

Hermione grinned at her friend's dreamy expression at the idea of using new magic. _He's always such a child when it comes to learning a new spell._ Hermione glanced down at his hand still holding hers, and her grin faded as she saw that the robe sleeve had ridden up, revealing several thin, white scars scratched on the inside of his wrist. They weren't anything like the messy scribbles he had gained from Umbridge upon the back of his right hand – these were neat, clean – but both sets of scars had something in common.

They were both self-inflicted.

"Harry…"

Seeing where her gaze had fallen, Harry yanked his hand away and firmly tugged the sleeve back into place.

"I don't want to talk about it," he muttered, keeping his eyes averted.

"Harry, you should–"

"I said I don't want to talk about it!" he snapped at her, his eyes blazing. A moment later he sighed and bit his lip. "I'm sorry, Hermione. It's my problem. I swear I haven't done it since I came back to school. When… when Voldemort's been taken care of and I'm free once more… I'll go and see a professional about... I promise."

Harry looked shyly up at her from underneath his mop of hair. "It's just… I have to be strong now. Don't you see? If I go admitting weakness to myself now, I won't be able to go on. So… so, when all this is over, I'll," Harry swallowed hard and continued speaking to his knees, "I'll need your help to teach me how to be vulnerable once more. How to give up control to someone else…" Harry's voice trailed off in a whisper.

Hermione gulped and shoved a hand in front of her mouth to try and stop the hiccups of grief for her friend from escaping.

"Oh– Oh, Harry!" She launched herself at him and wrapped her arms tight around his shoulders. "Of _course_ I'll be there for you! Ron will as well, you know that! We're not going to give up on you, Harry, we'll be there whenever you need us, I swear to you!"

Harry leaned into her shoulder and gently touched her arm, but did not return the embrace. After a minute, Hermione pulled back.

"Now," she said, sniffing hard and wiping her eyes on her sleeve. Harry watched her with a slight quirk to his lips. His eyes were dry. "Now, where were we?"

"Not interrupting something, I hope?"

Harry and Hermione looked up, startled at the sound of Ron's voice. He, Seamus and Dean were leaning on the inside of the portrait hole, leering at the pair of them. Harry and Hermione looked at each other, and then, with a startled yelp, sprang apart and scrambled to their feet, blushing furiously.

"Nothing happened!" _Is it just me, or does my voice sound higher than normal?_ Hermione wondered.

Ron laughed. "Yes, Hermione, of _course_ it didn't. The fact that there wasn't an inch between you is merely a coincidence!"

Hermione felt her cheeks flushing again, this time in anger. She put her hands on her hips and gave the three boys her best 'Molly Weasley' glare. "You listen to me, Ronald Weasley! You'll heed me when I say _nothing happened_. I'll be speaking with you later about something important, so you'd better bear this in mind!"

_'But, Hermione…'_ Harry's voice appeared in her mind.

_'But nothing, Harry! He's your best friend, he deserves to know. Now, shut up; we need to sort out these two.'_

Harry sighed. Ron gulped. Dean and Seamus pretended they were the completely innocent ones in the whole matter.

"OK, you two, come and sit down here. We need to have a word."

The two boys in question shuffled forward and settled down next to each other. Harry, Ron and Hermione sat down, completing the rough circle. They all barely fit into the space that was now impossibly cramped.

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Harry, if you would?"

Harry leaned forward and gave Seamus and Dean an apologetic smile. "Listen, guys, Snape might be onto us. And the worst thing is – he can read minds." The two boys looked terrified. "Now, we three can do Occlumency – the ability of shielding our minds from mind-reading – so that isn't a problem for us. You, on the other hand, are unable to and we don't have time to teach you."

_'Not to mention, there's no way I can shield five minds at once!'_ Harry muttered in his head.

Hermione and Ron snickered silently.

_'Harry?'_ Ron's voice sounded uncertain. _'Maybe we shouldn't Obliviate them after all. I mean, I know it's dangerous leaving something for Snape to find, but we could seriously injure them!'_

Harry was about to reply when they heard Seamus and Dean mutter to each other.

"Dean, Dean, he's turning red and looking constipated again. Should we be worried?" Seamus hissed at his companion.

"I dunno, maybe we should offer him some _Bowel-eezy_?" Dean muttered back.

It took all of Hermione's willpower not to burst out laughing. How Harry kept a level voice when he continued speaking, she would never know.

"So Occlumency's out." Harry cleared his throat for attention. "Therefore, the only option left is a memory charm. Obliviate is unacceptable, not only because it's dangerous, but also because who'd want to permanently lose memories of such a great victory?"

The four boys grinned at each other and Hermione resisted the impulse to roll her eyes.

"So, instead, we've chosen a reversible spell: 'Obscuris'. Essentially, it'll cloak the memories in shadow, making in damn near impossible to remember or extract until the caster performs the counter-charm. Understand?"

Seamus and Dean nodded.

"Do you trust me?"

The boys nodded once more, looking dubious.

"Well, that's great, because Hermione's performing the charm!"

Dean and Seamus grinned at her with barely concealed relief, and Hermione looked back with barely concealed annoyance. _It's a well-known fact these days that Harry's magic is getting a little strong, but that's no reason for him to burden me with his responsibilities!_ she thought angrily, and then paused. _Wait a minute, I just promised him that not ten minutes ago! All right, all right, I'll do it!_

"You first!" She pointed at Dean. "Come here."

Dean shuffled over and knelt in front of her. Hermione put her wand to his temple.

"_Obscuris!_" Dean's eyes went blank. "Dean Thomas, you will not remember your involvement in anything to do with Snape singing to the Minister. You will not remember this meeting," Hermione intoned. Dean's eyes were beginning to gain back a little focus. "Quick, get him out of here!"

Harry and Ron grabbed Dean's upper arms, flung him out of the portrait hole and slammed it shut. After a moment, they peeked around the edge to make sure that he'd gone.

"Wandered off like a little lost deer!" Ron snickered as he sat down next to Seamus, who looked vaguely horrified.

"Did you really have to throw him out like that?" he asked, bewildered.

"Yes, he was coming round," Hermione told him briskly. "And we're going to do the same to you too in a minute." She knelt down in front of him and touched her wand to his temple. "_Obscuris!_ Seamus Finnegan, you will not remember your involvement in anything to do with Snape singing to the Minister. You will not remember this meeting." She paused a little before adding. "And you will not be confused to find yourself outside the portrait of 'Udell the Unusual.'" Leaning back, she let Harry and Ron repeat the same procedure with Seamus that they had with Dean.

"Right, now that that's done," she said once the portrait was closed again. "I think that's enough excitement for one day, I'm going to bed."

oooOOOooo

Severus had found that kicking his furniture was very therapeutic, if rather painful for the feet. Unfortunately, he was impotent to do anything else; it wasn't like he could hex the little bastards who were going to make his life a misery as soon as he started teaching classes tomorrow. He could only snarl and yell and be generally unfair. And he normally did that anyway.

He could almost hear that dratted tune being replayed in his head. The only good thing he could see coming out of today was that the staff would probably stop teasing him now. After all, one does not just ignore a request from the Headmaster!

Snarling softly, he gave his sofa another vicious kick as his mind was dragged back to the reason for his humiliation. _Singing! Honestly! For Merlin's sake, I never sing in private, let alone in front of an audience!_ Groaning, he gave the end of the sofa another kick, blessing his boots for being sturdy enough to prevent a great amount of pain.

Someone laid a hand on Severus' shoulder.

He spun around with a cry, whipping his wand out and pointing it at… the Headmaster's nose.

"Albus," he squeaked, before frowning and clearing his throat. "Albus," he continued in his normal voice. "What the bloody hell are you doing in my quarters? And how the _blazes_ did you get in, in the first place!"

"Severus." Albus twinkled charmingly. "You forgot your supper." He levitated a tray into Severus field of vision which contained the remainders of his cottage pie, a slice of apple tart and, once again, a glass of apple juice.

Severus sighed, knowing when he was beaten, and took the tray. "Are you going to make a habit of this, Albus?" he grumbled as he settled down into his chair.

"Most likely," Albus replied cheerfully as he took the sofa. "I should have been doing this for years, you know!"

Severus groaned. "Merlin preserve me from barmy old codgers!" he muttered quietly, but not too quietly, causing Albus to laugh. "At least you didn't bring Minerva this time."

Albus smiled. "I thought you'd appreciate the peace and quiet, my boy."

"Peace and quiet? Then why are you still here?"

"Ahh, as you may have discovered over the years, my attendance is compulsory."

Severus stared at the Headmaster for a moment, and shoved a forkful of cottage pie in his mouth before he could comment. Some things were best left unsaid.

Albus sat peacefully for a few minutes, twiddling his thumbs and staring at the ceiling until Severus had started on his apple tart.

"I've been wondering, my boy... what did you think of the recording device that Minerva sent you?"

Severus took a sip of apple juice and cleared his throat. "It will be very useful for spying on the Dark Lord. I have become rather adept on gathering information for you, but, after all, I am only human." He smirked ruefully and took another sip of apple juice, before making a face. "Honestly, Albus, are you trying to make a point?" He swished the glass from side to side, drawing attention to it and making the liquid swirl around in distracting eddies.

Albus smiled widely. "But you like it so much, Severus!"

"I don't, I–" Severus cut himself off when he saw the smug look on Albus' face. After all, he didn't want the Headmaster to stop giving it to him. Severus sighed and set the tray on the table. "All right, you've made your point. Now get out of my quarters!"

Albus chuckled and stood to leave, allowing Severus to escort him to the door. Once there, the Potions Teacher's hand on his sleeve made him stop and look back.

"Albus," Severus said, his voice low and serious. "How do you get into my quarters?"

Albus raised his eyebrows. "I've said before; magic, Severus!"

Severus closed his eyes, trying not to be exasperated. It didn't work. "What kind of magic, Albus?" he grated.

Albus eyes went wide, and the twinkle in them made Severus wince in anticipation.

"Magical magic, Severus," the Headmaster told him, innocently.

"That's it, get out! And stay out, you infernal old meddler!"

Severus slammed the door on the laughing Headmaster and stormed over to his desk to mark the essays he had received today, seething at Albus' audaciousness. However, at the same time, he was slightly impressed.

Severus sighed as he stared at the massive pile of unmarked work in front of him. He knew he should look over the essays Albus had done for him for outrageous comments, but that would mean falling behind on his current workload, which Severus was loath to do.

_Why the old codger found it necessary to mark all the work due in for this week, I don't know! I only asked him to do the ones for the next day. And then he had the cheek to fall asleep on my desk!_ Severus rolled his eyes at the memory while getting out his red-inked quill and preparing to start on the Fifth Year Ravenclaw/Slytherin essays._ I suppose I'll leave the ones Albus did to chance_...

* * *

_A/N: 'Obscuris' means 'shadow' while 'Lux' means 'light' in Latin. Or should do, hopefully_


	12. Chapter 12

_'mindspeak'_

* * *

**Chapter Twelve:**

* * *

The next day was surprisingly… peaceful, to say the least. No fiery demons descended from on high, no evil creatures slunk up from the dungeons to tear the school asunder. Since nothing at all happened which could be connected with the terrible wrath of Snape, the students were beginning to worry. After all, Snape did not just 'forget' when someone had made a fool out of him, even if it did have the added bonus of upsetting the Minister.

Harry, Ron and Hermione had been especially vigilant in checking for things out-of-the-ordinary that they had to be wary about, but the only thing they had noticed was that Dean and Seamus had been sending them several suspicious looks.

"Hey, Hermione?" Harry whispered as Seamus glanced over for the fifth time during Charms and frowned at them. "Why do you suppose they're doing that? They can't remember us doing anything, can they?"

Hermione peered over the top of 'Charisma Charms; Fact or Fiction?' at the two Gryffindor boys currently ensconced on the opposite side of the room. "Hmm, I don't think so. Victims of memory curses often remain wary of the casters afterwards, even if they can't figure out why. They're probably really puzzled about their paranoia."

Ron snorted. "Let's hope they're puzzled enough that they don't start talking to each other about it; they might figure out what's going on!"

The trio shuddered.

"You two really are idiots, aren't you? You just had to go and needle Snape when he was already angry!" Hermione snapped.

"Hey!" the boys chorused, and then looked at each other sheepishly.

"You might remember, Little Miss Faultless, that it was you who upset him in the first place!" Ron said, raising his eyebrows.

"Well, I like that! Who asked me in the first place, hmm? You might like to remember that before shifting all the blame onto me!"

"I didn't expect you to actually _do_ it–"

"People! Enough!" Hermione and Ron turned to look at Harry. "Hush now. We've all made mistakes in this. There's no point in hashing them over once more. Besides, you're upsetting Flitwick." Harry nodded towards the tiny Professor who was jumping up and down on his desk, trying to get his class's attention. Ron and Hermione blushed a little in chagrin and looked down at their feet.

"Help me a little, would you?" Harry balled up a piece of parchment and chucked it at Anthony Goldstein and Morag MacDougal, who were chatting happily together in a corner. "Oi! Tony, Morag!"

They turned and looked at Harry in confusion. Harry gestured towards the desk. "Your Head of House appears to be in some distress." True enough, Flitwick had turned red from his efforts. Morag laughed and started turning people's attention towards the Professor.

Hermione leaned behind Harry to talk to Ron. "How long do reckon it will be before he realises he could just use a Sonorus Charm?"

Ron broke off from laughing at the chaos to answer her, "I think he's doing it on purpose. I could've sworn I saw him smiling a minute ago!"

A loud knock on the door silenced the class more effectively than if someone had set a firecracker off. Instantaneously, everyone was facing the front, quills out, parchment poised and looking attentive.

Flitwick cleared his throat. "Come in!" The door opened. "And that, children, explains Dunstan's Fourth Principle!" Everyone studiously scratched something on their parchment before looking up at the intruder. When they finally saw who it was, they all flinched.

It was Professor Snape.

He strode forward and placed some papers on the desk beside Flitwick. "Professor Flitwick, Professor McGonagall asked me to give you the roster for the Hogsmeade chaperones. Seeing as I had a free period, I saw no reason to delay the unhappy task a moment longer."

Flitwick nodded jovially. "Of course, of course, Professor Snape. Thank you for them, I'm sure I'll find some time to look at them soon."

Snape sneered. "Indeed." He turned to go, looking as snappish and bad-tempered as usual. However, when Hermione looked closer, she could see that he actually looked a little disheartened about something. _Is it about the spoon? The singing? Or something else, like Voldemort?_

Whatever the reason, Hermione found herself wanting to cheer him up a little. However, for the rest of her life, she could not work out what made her do what she did next.

Just as he was about to pass the back row where she, Harry, and Ron sat, she smiled up at him and, very deliberately, held a lock of her pink hair right in front of her nose and studied it cross-eyed. Having finished her impromptu examination, she finally flicked her eyes up again to catch his and raised her eyebrows.

The result was astonishing.

Though his facial features did not undergo any great change, his eyes sparked and widened, first in astonishment and then amusement. In fact, Hermione could have sworn she saw his lips quirk upward slightly, but she was not quite sure. Then the door closed behind him and after a brief period of silence, the class got underway once more.

Harry and Ron leaned over to her, their eyes wide. "Did you see that?" they breathed.

Hermione smiled. "Yes. Yes, I did." It felt really good to be able to share a private joke with the normally untouchable man.

"Blimey!" Ron collapsed back into his chair. "Maybe the old bat isn't as bad as we first thought!"

"If you mean we've noticed him behaving like a human, Ron, then I would say that we had to grow up a lot first to be able to see that," Hermione agreed.

Harry snorted. "Understanding him, on the other hand, is another matter entirely! Hermione, he seems to like you, maybe if we do get discovered before we come up with a plan to put the sp… object back, he won't be so ballistic that he'll obliterate us completely."

"Yeah, maybe he'll be feeling so generous that he'll leave a single arm behind so that the Wizarding World can have something to commemorate us with!" Ron told him, wryly.

Harry looked shocked. "Us? What do you mean, 'us'? _I'm_ the Boy Who Lived, remember? If anyone's arm should be left behind, it should be mine! And the Wizarding World would want to remember me by my great acts of heroism and bravery. You two will be lucky if you get a footnote!"

Hermione and Ron looked at each other, nodded, put their hands behind Harry's head and banged his forehead into his desk.

"Ow! That wasn't necessary! You knew I was only joking! Can't I make fun of my own status anymore? Sometimes I wonder if it's the only thing keeping me sane!"

Hermione patted Harry's hand. "Harry, you lost your sanity a long time ago, I'm afraid."

"I _know_ that. The problem is that you don't let me indulge in it." The bell rang. "Never mind, let's go and get lunch."

"Hang on, Harry!" Hermione pulled her wand out and cast a spell that numbed his forehead. "Better?"

"Yeah, thanks. Come on; let's get out of here before Flitwick decides to make us clean up."


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen:**

* * *

Severus sat at his desk, idly twirling a quill between his fingers. The Ravenclaw and Slytherin Fifth years were his last class of the day and, in a fit of self-indulgence, he had assigned them a theoretical lesson.

Now all he had to do was sit and watch them until the lesson ended. He had finished lecturing them over half an hour ago and had assigned them to read two chapters in their set text for the rest of the class time. As they were one of his more studious classes, Severus revelled in the complete silence which was punctuated only by the occasional turning of a page.

He had woken up that morning with the full expectation of having to face ridicule at every turn. After all, whoever had heard of anything more ridiculous than the greasy git of a Potions teacher making such an exhibition of himself? During his school days, Black and Potter would have made damn sure that he wouldn't have been able to get any peace for weeks.

It was sufficient to say that he had been more than shocked when he had observed his reception amongst the students after the singing debacle. Though his fellow staff members had hid smirks behind their teacups, the students' reaction had been rather different.

Instead of the mocking and ridicule and barely controlled classes he had expected, he experienced silence, diligent work and awestruck glances. It had all been very unnerving.

In fact, during his midmorning break, he had passed a corridor from which he had heard Stebbings telling his friends that, 'Professor Snape is actually quite cool. Just look at what he did to the Minister!' Now, these words were from the lips of a boy who could have been Neville Longbottom reincarnated – only this time with attitude.

The whole scene had only further disturbed Severus and consequently he had caught himself wondering how many people would notice if he barricaded himself in his chambers until no one even remembered the incident anymore.

Unfortunately, this was a stupid question to ask oneself and Severus knew it. Aside from the absurdity of the idea, indulging in such an activity would completely ruin his already tattered reputation! Professor Snape, the scourge of the dungeons, would be expected to swoop about and make extremely nasty comments that were often strong enough to strip varnish off of wood, not hide inside his own closet like some green Firstie! And the former was exactly what Severus planned to do.

He had discovered twelve minutes into his first class, much to his own frustration, that snarling at staring students only made them stare all the more.

Instead, he had resigned himself to being stared at and whispered about every time he walked down the corridor or ended a class. It was enough to make him almost feel sorry for Harry Potter. Though, if Severus was completely honest with himself, he already felt vaguely sorry for Harry Potter.

The boy had more than enough to deal with and he _still_ had to put up with being gawped at. This new experience had just brought Severus' feelings into a sharper perspective. It was making it damned hard for him to keep telling himself that he hated the boy!

Unnerved at the strange behaviour of the student population and displaced from his position as 'most hated Professor', Severus had decided to wait for the trouble to die down a bit before he sorted out his own feelings on the matter and decided how to take revenge on whoever had humiliated him.

Severus closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair, considering the matter. Whoever had taken his spoon had also been linked with the singing incident and he was very displeased that he had not yet managed to work out who had taken and hidden his spoon. (And whoever was torturing him in this matter would be on the receiving end of a very slow and painful demise, of that he was sure).

It was clearly not a random act of mischief designed to wind him up; it was practically open warfare! It also meant that getting his spoon back any time soon was not a likely possibility.

It was a conspiracy!

The facts, as they were, were this: his spoon was missing and whoever had taken it had later used it as bait to lure him into the singing fiasco. It was not Minerva or Albus, as he was sure they would not have done something like that to him; it was not their style. It was not Potter; the boy did not know how to perform Occlumency and it was very easy to glean the truth from the surface of Potter's thoughts; he had not taken the spoon. This, most likely, excluded his two side-kicks – especially as there had been nothing suspicious in their minds either.

Unfortunately, Severus had not got much further than this in his train of thought, and if there was one thing he truly hated, it was not knowing all the facts, or being able to use his logic to deduce them. Everyone else aside from the troublesome trio had varying motives and aggravatingly every one of them were valid. He couldn't very well cast Legilimens on the whole school! He also couldn't ask Albus or Minerva for help because, quite honestly, they were in the middle of a war and there were more important things than spoons out there.

The problem was that Severus had really liked that spoon!

Severus felt his lower lip protruding slightly and hastily sucked it back in. After all, Severus Snape _never_ pouted.

The bell rang and he surged to his feet, grateful that classes were finally over for the day. "Class dismissed!" he snapped, and watched as the Ravenclaws and Slytherins shuffled out to a low chorus of, "Thank you, Professor." They were one of the only classes that actually thanked him for his teaching, and Severus actually favoured them all because of that – even the Ravenclaws. Praise would work wonders for a person's disposition. Sometimes he wondered why the other classes hadn't figured out yet that he mostly treated them like they treated him.

After quick check of the classroom proved that it was tidy enough to be left overnight, Severus locked the door behind him on his way out. He couldn't have the little devils filching from the students' store now, could he?

If they wanted an ingredient, they would have to ask him for it and be prepared to tell him the reason why they wanted it. Unlike a certain someone who had taken Boomslang skin from him in only her second year at Hogwarts.

A bewildered smirk came over his face as his thoughts turned towards the illustrious Miss Granger. She really had changed dramatically over the years; growing from a timid First Year into the confident young woman who could share personal jokes with the most unapproachable member of the staff. Nobody shared personal jokes with Severus!

He knew he should be more concerned about how she had managed to sense his mood – after all, an emotional spy is a dead spy – but he found himself more interested by the manner in which she had achieved this...

He had been quite annoyed with Minerva when she had dumped the Head of House Hogsmeade rosters onto his desk and asked him in a distracted way for him to distribute them. If she had been able to hand out all the others to the rest of the staff, why couldn't she have given the last two to their appropriate owners? But, of course, his complaints had fallen on deaf ears – more like non-existent ears for she had certainly left the room fast enough – and Severus had been stuck with handing the timetables over to Pomona and Filius.

His irritation, combined with his unease about the way the students were treating him had put him in a rather miserable mood. This was only made worse by the First Years, which Pomona had been teaching, staring up at him in undisguised astonishment and curiosity. He had felt like he was being examined through a magical magnifier and had escaped the greenhouse as quickly as possible.

Severus had then swiftly proceeded to the Charms classroom and was shocked by the loud racket which could be heard clearly from the corridor once he arrives. Steeling himself, he had knocked loudly and listened in confusion as there was immediate silence followed by a jovial, "Come in!" from Filius. Severus' headache had worsened when he entered the classroom and had seen a quiet and studious class with their heads bent diligently over their work.

_Dunstan's Fourth Principle indeed! As if Filius' class hadn't been an unorganised ruckus just a second before!_

Tired and totally certain that he wanted nothing more than to go back to his chambers and sleep until his next class, Severus had gone over his business there quickly and had turned to go. Keeping his sneer firmly in place, he had prowled down the aisle, convinced that his façade would protect him. Only when he reached the back of the room did he realise that this was Potter's class – for there, next to the Boy Wonder himself, sat Hermione Granger.

He was currently quite convinced that she was one of the few people he actually liked, for there, in that classroom, she had looked straight into his eyes and _smiled_ at him. And then, most astonishingly of all, she had taken a piece of her new hair and flicked it at him as if to remind him of that rather disastrous detention. At her own personal expense, she had reminded him of how much amusement he had experienced that day – he couldn't remember the last time he had laughed at all, let alone to that extent.

_Maybe I should invite her along to participate in some of Potions research for the war effort – after all, she would be a very useful asset._

Realising he had reached the staff room, he cut off all further musings on Hermione Granger – the Headmaster did not simply call surprise staff meetings for no reason – and opened the door.

One of the disadvantages of living in the dungeons was the fact that it always took so long to get to anywhere else in the castle. Of course, a rather large advantage was that it took a long time for the rest of the castle to get to the dungeons, which, in Severus' opinion, outweighed all of the drawbacks. As the situation stood, only Sinistra, Trelawney and Albus were missing from the room.

Severus stalked over to his favourite chair by the fireplace and lowered himself into it, being sure to give his snickering colleagues the evil eye. Satisfied the chortling was soon at tolerable levels, Severus settled back to wait.

It did not take long for Trelawney to drift in, looking like she had been spending all her free time since Severus had last seen her indulging in the finest quality marijuana. She floated over to him.

"Severus, I have foreseen–"

"You'll have foreseen a very painful and rather embarrassing destiny upon yourself if you remain any longer at the wrong end of my wand!" he snapped before she could get any further. She gave an affronted sniff and wandered off. Severus resisted the urge to preen. _Still haven't lost my touch, I see._

Sinistra had crept in a short while after Trelawney, looking as though she was trying her damndest to avoid the Divination Professor. Now, as she caught sight of Severus, she hastened over to the chair beside him. He stiffened, cursing himself for having celebrated his victory too soon.

"Severus." She nodded her head, her fly-away blonde hair stuck out every which way as she flopped into the chair beside him. "I've had the most God-awful day. Apparently, now that you're the latest craze, I have gained your old position as Most Hated Professor. Add to that the fact I've worked a full day already and have to stay up most of the night pointing out stars that have always been there and will always be there to clueless youngsters, I've just set myself up for something even worse than God-awful day." She took a sip from a small flask at her hip containing something potent, finally allowing Severus to get a word in edgeways.

"And you are telling _me_ this drivel for what precise reason?" he asked snidely, one elegant eyebrow arched in question.

Sinistra levelled a keen look at him. "You wouldn't hesitate to tell me to sod off and shut up."

"You're right; sod off and stop pestering me with this foolish claptrap!"

She laughed and settled herself deeper into the armchair. "Nice try, Severus. I suppose I haven't been completely honest with you; you're also the only person who can get rid of the old Hag from the North." She nodded towards Trelawney and handed him the flask.

Severus had to prevent a snort as he took it from her.

"Try some. You look like you've had a pretty dreadful day too."

Severus took the flask and gave it a sharp sniff, mentally cataloguing all the anti-poisons he had in his stores, before throwing caution to the wind and downing a mouthful. It was only his very strong willpower that prevented him from coughing and spluttering like a Third Year the first time that he was introduced to whiskey.

That had happened to Severus too.

"Bloody hell, Aurora! What the blazes is in this blasted stuff?"

She took the flask back off him. "Trust me, you don't want to know. So, tell me, what happened to you to make you look like someone's stolen your favourite spoon… oops, my mistake!"

She smirked cheerfully at him while he glared at her.

They had a peculiar relationship. Most of the time they couldn't stand each other; their temperaments were far too alike. But sometimes, there were those rare occasions when each really seemed to understand the other, and they could talk for hours without getting bored. Severus was vastly relieved that this was one of the latter days. He was far too worn out for sniping. Instead, he spent the next few minutes leading up to four o'clock grumbling about his day and listening to her grumble about hers. There was something very therapeutic about moaning with someone.

"…And the Summoning Charm doesn't even work on it! Watch! _Accio_ Severus' spoon!" Nothing happened. "See? The devils responsible have put some kind of spell on it to prevent it returning to me by magical means!"

Aurora nodded sagely. "Savages. Why didn't you try that when you first lost it?"

Severus shot her a withering look. "A Summoning Charm requires _focus_, Aurora! If there was one thing I was not that day, it was focused! Incensed, exasperated, infuriated; yes. Focused, no. The more likely outcome of that would have been me being pelted with every spoon in the Great Hall save my own! Excuse me if I already think I've been humiliated enough recently. No, I shall have to wait for the perpetrators to make the next move."

Aurora's eyes were suspiciously wide. "A conspiracy about a spoon! Goodness, that's exciting. Who'd have thought it?"

Severus glanced over at her, puzzled, but a second later saw the mirth dancing in her eyes. "Do not mock me, woman!" he snarled at her, waving a long, stained finger at her nose.

"Why, Severus, I wouldn't dare!" She threw back her head and laughed. "It's been great talking to you. I feel almost ready to be able to tackle the night-shift." She nudged his arm. "The spoon will turn up, of that I'm sure."

Just then, Minerva stood up and clapped her hands for everyone's attention. "It's almost four o'clock; if everyone would take their seats, please. I'm sure the Headmaster will be arriving shortly."

Aurora nudged Severus' arm again as they stood. "She makes you feel just like a student again, doesn't she?"

Severus smirked. "Tell me about it." He paused. "However, the fact that she has just started knitting has rather spoiled the image."

He settled down at the large, oval table with Minerva on one side and Aurora on his other. Praying for the meeting to be over soon – so that he could go back to his quarters and possibly read the latest Potions periodical – he leaned back in his chair and tuned out the rest of the staff room chatter. Aurora seemed to have had the same idea as him, only her idea of deflecting attention away from herself was to put her head on the table and pretend to be asleep. Severus rolled his eyes. _The woman has no style!_

Finally, after what seemed like an age, the door opened and Albus Dumbledore walked in. Severus straightened and nudged Aurora. She growled and swatted at him before reluctantly sitting up, waiting for the Headmaster to speak.

"If I could have all of your attention, please. Thank you. I have an important announcement to make." Albus peered around at his silent staff.

"A decision has been made. A decision that will change Hogwarts' entire future…" the Headmaster trailed off, gauging the impact his words were having on everyone.

"For Merlin's sake, Albus, just spit it out," Severus snapped, spoiling the moment.

The Headmaster took the hint. "The Minister has decided it prudent to break all ties with Hogwarts; we are now an independent institution, with only me in charge of all the major decisions for the school. Some of you may remember that the Board of Governors is just another branch of the Ministry, and from now on they will have nothing to do with us either. We are now responsible for our own curriculum, security and paperwork, so do please get your student reports in by next Friday..."

The staff stared in astonishment at Dumbledore as he continued to speak. Flitwick was so shocked by the news he fell off his magically altered chair. Trelawney, who was about to pour herself a cup of tea, missed the teacup entirely and splattered herbal tea over the floral printed napery. Minerva accidently dropped her knitting directly in the path of the spreading liquid.

"Headmaster, are you sure?" she whispered faintly, her hands still held as though she were about to pearl another stitch.

"Yes, indeed, the Minister has already signed all the appropriate paperwork," Albus confirmed, and then, after a short pause, "Sybil, dear, the tablecloth isn't thirsty."

Trelawney let out a muffled squeak and set down the teapot just as Minerva came to her senses, grabbed Filius by the seat of his pants and popped him back onto his seat.

_Well,_ Severus thought, swallowing. _It's not every day you're partially responsible for the end of an era. The only question is, what now?_


	14. Chapter 14

_A/N: There are mild references in this chapter to chapters one and six - if you can't remember what happened to Neville, or what Voldemort ordered Snape to do, please either check them over or ask me!_

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen:**

* * *

Surprisingly, the day slowly faded from Monday to Tuesday without a single mishap occurring to Harry, Ron, or Hermione. The three of them couldn't help but feel that it was the calm before the storm. Harry especially said he suspected there was a plot brewing.

"I don't like it," he told Ron and Hermione as they walked down a hallway on the second floor, heading for the Potions classroom. "Someone's planning something, and I can't decide if it's Voldemort or Snape. This whole waiting for something to happen is making me twitchy." As if to prove his point, he twitched.

Hermione looked at Ron and shrugged helplessly.

She was just about to open her mouth to reassure Harry when they rounded the corner and saw Dean standing and staring out of a window, looking very fed-up. They all stopped abruptly and exchanged glances.

"The end of the world nigh approaches," Harry muttered under his breath. That earned him an elbow in the ribs from Hermione.

"Shut up! I'm going to go and find out what's wrong – I bet it's nothing to do with us." Hermione marched forward confidently, the other two trailing behind her. "Dean, what's the matter?"

He looked up and shrugged. "Oh, nothing. I just don't want to go to Potions class, is all. Look what he wrote on my latest essay!" He lifted up the essay and silently re-read whatever comment had disturbed him so.

Ron leant over his shoulder and read, "'You are an idiot savant who appears to have mislaid his entire brain before coming to Potions Class. I would expect better efforts from a toddler!' Wow, Dean, that's really harsh!"

Dean sighed. "And I don't even know what I did to upset him!"

"What appears to be the problem, children?"

The four of them looked up to see the kindly, old Headmaster looking down at them.

"Look what Professor Snape's written on Dean's essay, Professor!" Hermione exclaimed, brandishing the offending piece of parchment.

The Headmaster's eyes scanned the sheet. "Oh, dear, dear me. I shall have to have a word with Severus." As it happened, at just that moment, the offending Professor turned down their corridor. "Severus? A word if you will."

Professor Snape glided over to them and regarded the children with a sneer, watching them closely through slitted eyes. "You wished to speak with me, Headmaster?"

"Yes, Professor. You know, you really will have to try your best to keep your temper while marking essays. Just look at what you've said on this one!"

A faint frown line appeared between Snape's eyebrows as he took the parchment. The next second, he was staring at it incredulously, as though he had never seen the essay before in his life. His gaze lifted slowly from the essay to gift the Headmaster with a one hundred-watt death glare.

"I shall endeavour to improve, Headmaster," he said, drawing the words out as though they were painful.

"I'll leave it with you then, Severus? Excellent!" The Headmaster beamed. "Now, run along, children!"

Hermione hurried away with the others, glad that the Headmaster had not mentioned that it was Dean's essay while they were still standing there. She glanced back briefly, before whirling away, her eyes wide. Surely she had just imagined that?

Because there was no way in real life that the Headmaster would be hanging onto the wall, howling with laughter while the Potions Master whacked him over the head with Dean's essay.

"Hermione? Are you all right? You look like you've seen a ghost," Harry asked, concerned.

"Oh, I'm fine! You three run along, I've just remembered that I have to check something in the library!"

Ignoring their groans, she ducked into a corridor running perpendicular to theirs and waited, wondering if what she was about to do could be considered suicidal. It took barely two minutes before Professor Snape came striding past her hiding place.

"Did you really just hit the Headmaster with a student's essay?"

Professor Snape did a double take, before back-tracking to the corridor she was standing in. Hermione had to suppress her astonishment. She had expected him to ignore her completely and continue walking, but instead, here he was, leaning against the wall beside her, with a slight smirk gracing his face.

"Miss Granger, you should really get your eyes tested. All that peering at books has obviously caused you to start seeing things."

She walked right up to him and poked him in the chest, despite the sensible part of her mind screaming at her, _Hermione, what the hell are you doing?_ "I could do that, but that won't change what I saw! And I say that three minutes ago, I saw you standing in the corridor, whacking the Headmaster over the head with a piece of parchment!"

When he looked like he was about to protest, she poked him again and growled, "Remember, you owe me! It's not easy to make the transition from basic brunette to psychedelic flamingo!"

A spark of amusement lit his features before he suppressed it. "If you remember, it was you who let her allergy get the better of her and dropped far too much of the vital ingredient into her cauldron."

"That's as it may be, but you are the Potions Master who should have been able to prevent such a catastrophe, and, if not, you should have had the expertise to reverse the permanent consequences!"

The smirk grew and he inclined his head slightly. "I concede; it was the Potions Master in the hallway with the essay."

Hermione gave him a shrewd look. "I play Cluedo too, you know."

She marvelled at the slight blush that stained his cheeks for a second, trying to remember why she had started this conversation in the first place. For the life of her, she could not remember the reason. Though, at this point, she did not particularly care. She was enjoying herself too much. "The question is; why? One might say that others may have to be cautious from now on, for it seems the great Potions Master has gone off the rails."

_And now,_ she thought,_ I am officially dead. I just had to see how far I could push him…_

However, she did not move from her position; leaning against the wall, unconsciously mirroring his posture and watching him with a slight smirk on her face. Inside, she waited in tense anticipation for the verbal killing blow he was about to deal her… and barely stopped her mouth from dropping open when he smiled at her. In fact, she barely stopped her knees from giving way in total shock.

She must have given herself away, for the smirk returned to his face with full force. "One might say that said Headmaster made an offer to said Potions Master to mark the excess of asinine student essays. One might then say that said Headmaster cornered said Potions Master in the hallway and proceeded to reprimand him for being too harsh in an essay said Potions Master had never before set eyes on." The Professor's eyebrows rose. "This sequence of events may or may not have led to the unfortunate Dumbledore bashing which you have just witnessed."

Hermione gaped. She couldn't help it. "Do you mean to tell me that Headmaster marked your essays?"

A regal nod.

"And was harsher than you've ever been in them?"

Another nod, though this one was done with more irritation.

"And he just blamed you for a comment that he had written himself?

The sneer returned. "Amazing. The brightest witch of her age has got it in one. Shall we all stand around speechless for several minutes to commemorate this blessed event?" His expression lightened a little when he saw her disapproving expression. "You, Miss Granger, have just been present at one of the many events the Headmaster sets up because he thinks that they will be 'a good joke'. Be warned that if you ever start teaching here, they will become regular occurrences to be loathed and ignored."

She laughed, delighted with the turn of conversation. "I shall certainly bear that in mind, Professor." She checked her watch. "You and I have class now. Will you let me go in first, or will you deliberately make me late?"

"Miss Granger, surely you would not deprive me of the opportunity to meaninglessly take points from Gryffindor?" he asked her, his eyebrow quirked innocently.

"Oh yes, I would!" she cried and sprinted off down the corridor, praying that her heavy bag would not slow her down.

oooOOOooo

Severus watched with amusement as Miss Granger pelted off down the corridor, black robes and pink hair flying. He found himself utterly bewildered by this turn of events, but realised that he did not particularly care.

He had been extremely surprised and intrigued that Miss Granger had challenged him in such a way, and had been pleasantly satisfied by their conversation; not only did they both have a chance to tease the other, they had actually enjoyed it. Severus started walking towards his dungeons, deep in thought.

To his surprise, he found he did not particularly wish to examine the reasons why he had enjoyed their talk in too much detail. It must have been because Miss Granger had proved she could hold her own against him, and thus would make an appropriate assistant to help him brew potions for the war effort. He gave a sharp nod. _Yes, that must be it. Nothing at all to do with the way she looked... or the fact that she made me smile..._

Knowing the Professor in him would not like the way his thoughts were going, Severus quickly cast about for something else to occupy his mind. He didn't have to think hard before he remembered the topic he had been considering before he ran into Hermione; what had happened the night before and the bombshell that Albus had dropped on them. The aftermath had been strangely… anticlimactic once everyone had calmed down. And cleaned all the tea off the table, of course.

How one teapot had managed to hold so much tea, Severus would never know.

Unfortunately, Minerva's knitting would never be the same again and Filius had managed to bruise his knee, but apart from that, it really had been quite disappointing.

The Headmaster had explained that Hogwarts had originally been an independent institution; an organisation completely separate from the Ministry. Therefore, their funding, policies and staff would all remain the same. The only great changes would be that they could now alter the wards to ban certain 'undesirable' people from the grounds, that the school would not be forced to accept all students from pureblood families, and that they could employ their own personal security guards.

Most importantly, members of staff were now permitted to use all forms of magic on any adult who trespassed, without the Ministry being able to intervene unless someone was killed or permanently maimed in the process.

Severus sighed happily. No doubt several parents would withdraw students from the school now that Hogwarts was no longer under the Ministry's eye, but these new rules were very much to his liking. The next time he saw Lucius Malfoy on the grounds, he could publically hex him and use the excuse, "But, Lucius, the Headmaster told me to!"

Apparently the Minister had finally had enough of all the things that seemed to happen to him if he became involved with anything to do with Potter or Albus. According to Albus, the man had had to be escorted from the building at midnight, the night after the singing incident, screaming, "Enough! No more! How could you do this to me? I'm the Minister of Magic! I never want to see any of you bastards again!" Or words to that effect.

Severus smirked and shook his head as he entered the dungeon corridor. _Good riddance to bad rubbish._

He stopped outside his classroom door, steeled himself, and flung it open, striding in like an avenging angel. His eyes swept over the class as he walked to the front of the room, assessing the number of students present. He frowned, temporarily distracted. Wasn't there one student missing?

"Where's…" Severus managed to catch himself just in time. _Damn, I was about to ask where Longbottom was, wasn't I? Snape, think of something! Don't say Longbottom, anyone but Longbottom!_ "Potter?" _Dammit! Don't say things like that when you're looking right at the boy, you idiot!_

The room went silent. Severus was still staring at Potter, wondering how the hell he got himself into these situations. Finally someone spoke up.

"Err, Professor, he's right here." Miss Granger demonstrated her point by patting Potter several times on the arm.

"Ah, there you are, Mr Potter! Maybe in future you'll deign to arrive to class on time. Five points from Gryffindor for your lateness!" Severus glared around the class, as though daring someone to say Potter had been there all along, before whirling around and striding to the blackboard.

But not before he heard the "D'you think Snape's feeling okay?" from behind him.

Severus closed his eyes, and pretended to have gone temporarily deaf. He scratched out the potion instructions on the board, not really concentrating, wondering what it was about him that meant that any good mood he experienced had to be destroyed mere moments later. He then wondered if this was a forewarning for how the Order's work at Azkaban would go later that night.

"Get started!" He chucked down the chalk and threw himself into his chair, glaring around at the class. The only one not bent over her work was Granger. She was staring at him with a puzzled look in her eyes. "I meant you as well, Miss Granger. Do you expect a personal invitation? I assure you, if that is the case, it will come in the form of a detention!" The girl blanched and Severus steeled himself, determined not to let her distress affect him. Much.

So wrapped up was he in his own thoughts, that he didn't even realise that Goyle's potion was beginning to spit and hiss until it was far too late.

He finally looked up from rethinking that night's strategy for the umpteenth time and spotted the disastrous contents of the unfortunate Slytherin's cauldron.

"Everyone out! Now! Take only your wand! Get out! Out!"

Everyone looked up at their Professor, startled, and then over to the cauldron he was heading towards. One second, the whole class was seated, placidly stirring their cauldrons, and the next, they were all pelting for the exit. Severus had only just started the incantation that would contain and Vanish the potion when it exploded.


	15. Chapter 15

_'mindspeak'_

* * *

**Chapter Fifteen:**

* * *

Out in the corridor, Hermione heard the blast and whirled around. She had been so sure the Professor would be able to deal with the potion that she hadn't even considered his safety for one second. She noticed that a couple of Slytherins also looked rather panicked, but they were not her top priority at the moment: Professor Snape was. Summoning up all her bossiness, she turned to face the group.

"Someone go and get Madam Pomfrey!"

Silence.

"Well, what are you waiting for? _Move!_"

Surprisingly, Draco Malfoy turned and sprinted off down the corridor, leaving behind several other anxious and uncertain faces.

"Does anyone else know how to do the Bubble-Head Charm?" A Slytherin whose name she was pretty sure was Cynthia Moon raised her hand. "You and I are going to go and get the Professor. The rest of you, stay out here, away from the door and any of the fumes that come out!" Several people nodded mechanically. She turned to her less than enthusiastic companion. "Right! Let's go rescue your Head of House!"

Moon gave her a mocking smile and strode forward, hair swinging with determination. _With determination?_ Hermione thought to herself. _Oh dear, I've definitely gone round the twist. I'm personifying her hair! Err, right, don't panic, don't panic. Snape is going to be just FINE, you'll see_.

Quickly casting the Bubble-Head Charm, Hermione followed the Slytherin girl through the now open classroom door.

The room was filled with thick, purple fog. Hermione squinted, trying to see through it, but it was pretty much impenetrable.

"He was over there when we left the room," Hermione said to Moon, waving her hand vaguely, "so I suppose he'll be around here." Holding tight to the girl's robe in front of her so she would not lose her in the fog, Hermione crept forward (pretending not to notice Moon's tight grip upon Hermione's own sleeve), bumping into overturned benches and splintered stools with every step.

Finally Hermione felt something soft under her foot. She froze and prodded it a bit. It felt like material. She tugged on the other girl's hand a little.

"I think he's down here." To her surprise, Hermione could feel her hands shaking. '_What state's he going to be in? Oh God! What if the only thing left is his robes?'_

_'It'll be fine, Hermione.'_ She jumped as she felt Ron and Harry whisper in her head. Moon looked at her oddly. _'You're not alone. We're here for you.'_

She gave a decisive nod and knelt down on the floor, patting around to see if she could find anything. After a second, she felt Moon do the same.

"I've found a hand." The Slytherin girl's voice quavered a little as she spoke.

"Is it, err…" Hermione couldn't bring herself to say _attached._

"I don't know. I don't want to check."

"Where are you?" She felt the other girl's hand clutch her own. "Show me where you found it."

She felt her hand lowered onto what was most definitely somebody else's hand. The palm was soft and delicate under her palm, while the fingers were rough with calluses. Gulping, she gave the hand a squeeze to give herself courage, and started to move up to the wrist and onto the arm – still attached – the shoulder – still attached – the neck, the head – all still attached, though the latter was covered in a sticky substance which was most likely the potion. At least, she hoped it was the potion.

Hermione felt his neck and almost panted in relief when she felt a pulse.

"He's alive. We should check if the rest of him is… all right before we move him."

They felt up and down his arms, legs and torso, colliding occasionally due to the extremely poor visibility. Now that she didn't have to expect the worst, Hermione felt hysterical laughter rising in her.

_'Here I am, on the Potions classroom floor, feeling up Professor Snape. This one's definitely got to go in the history books!'_

_'Eeeww!'_

_'Hermione, too much information!'_

_'Oh, grow up you two! I really need to work on what I'm meant to think to myself.'_

_'It's OK. You're under stress, you're looking for comfort and the bond seemed to help, so you turned to that.'_

_'Thanks, Harry. Ron?'_

_'Eeeww!'_

"Granger?"

Hermione blinked, startled. "Yes, Moon?"

"Cynthia. I think he's all right. We should try and get him out of here."

"OK, on the count of three. One, two, three, _Wingardium Leviosa!_"

Hermione felt the pull of the spell as it took effect, but still couldn't see anything whatsoever. She reached out and grabbed Snape's hand to steady herself.

"M– Cynthia? Hold onto his other hand so we don't get lost."

Slowly, slowly, they inched towards the door. _'Harry? Ron? Is Madam Pomfrey there yet?'_

_'I think I can hear Malfoy coming back…'_

_'You think? Honestly, Harry, I could hear him caterwauling five minutes ago!'_

_'Right, thanks you two – now shut up!'_

Hermione almost stumbled over an upturned stool in her irritation with the boys, but a hand grabbing the back of her robes stopped her fall.

"Careful there, Granger."

"It's Hermione."

"Fine. Careful there, Hermione."

_Typical – all we needed to do to get inter-House co-operation is to knock out the Potions teacher – maybe we should do it more often… Nah, then there'd be no one else to carry on a half decent conversation with. I hope he's OK._

Hermione's hand collided with the door and the two girls stumbled out, followed by their floating Potions Master. As it happened, Madam Pomfrey chose that moment to turn down their corridor. If Hermione had expected her to fuss over the state Professor Snape was in, she was gravely mistaken.

"Not again! Honestly, that man really has to find another pastime apart from throwing himself in front of exploding cauldrons!"

"But, Madam Pomfrey, he could be hurt!" Hermione exclaimed indignantly, affronted on behalf of the unconscious man at her side. _Is this how other people treat a man who's sacrificed so much to help our cause? It's barbaric!_

Madam Pomfrey patted her arm. "Don't fret, dear. If he'd damaged himself, the school wards would have gone off and I wouldn't be hanging around here engaging in idle chitchat. He's fine; merely unconscious, and possibly contending with the unfortunate side effects of whatever potion hit him." Madam Pomfrey took control of the levitation spell and rolled her eyes. "If I end up having to remove an extra arm again, I shall scream."

The students exchanged startled glances behind her back as she strode off up the corridor – the Potions Master bobbing alongside her like some bizarre children's float. Hermione noted with interest that all the Slytherins looked relieved and some were even going so far as to pat Cynthia on the back.

Hermione tried to smile at the girl to share her relief that Snape was going to be OK but Cynthia only sneered back. It appeared their mutual truce was at an end. Hermione sighed as she watched the Slytherins drift away down the corridor, presumably towards their Common Room, with Cynthia following on behind.

"Why haven't I noticed her before?"

Hermione looked to her right and noticed that the boys had crept up behind her. Ron was predictably, staring at the retreating blonde girl whom Hermione thought she had befriended before being proved otherwise. "Possibly because you don't look much further than your own nose unless there's a ball involved."

"I must be mad; she's _hot!"_

Harry and Hermione exchanged glances which could only be interpreted as, _Oh dear God._

"Well, at least now we've got a little time to ourselves to do something other than study and make mischief." The boys looked at her with interest. "Come on, you two – library!"

The interest morphed almost immediately into dismay. "But _whyyy?"_ her companions whined in unison.

_Sometimes I wonder if those two's heads are screwed on the right way. _"I thought you wanted to find a way to distract Snape from the _you-know-what_. He can't stay unconscious forever. This is our chance!"

Harry perked up considerably, but Ron still looked like he needed convincing.

oooOOOooo

Severus was very happy. He was floating quite peacefully in a large landscape which smelt of lemons and… roses. The orange ground contrasted quite nicely with the purple sky and there were large, yellow puff-balls dotted all across the strange land. Somehow, without moving any closer, Severus knew they were giant Sherbet Lemons.

Severus sighed contentedly and rolled over so he could float on his back and look up at the amethyst sky. It really was very pretty, and much more like something Severus would find in Albus' psyche than his own. Still, it was making him cheerful and Severus did not mind that.

Suddenly, the part of the sky directly in front of him started to change colour. First the deep purple lightened to lilac, then to mauve, and then finally to fuchsia. Hermione turned around and waved at him, pulling her bright pink hair out of her face as she did so. Severus smiled and waved back. It seemed to delight her.

Severus knew he would have to return to reality soon, but it was nice to enjoy himself in the meantime. Still smiling slightly, he leaned back and closed his eyes.

oooOOOooo

Hermione hurried up to the Hospital Wing after lunch, curious as to whether the Professor had woken up yet, or, God forbid, had grown any new limbs. As she turned down the hallway leading to the Wing, she heard a loud commotion coming from behind the closed double doors. Concerned, she quickened her pace and burst upon a scene that would stay with her for a very long time.

"Erm, Madam Pomfrey? Is there anything I could do to help?"

"Yes! Get him off!"

"Ah, the lady doth protest too much."

"No I don't, you drugged up fool! Get off!"

It really was very bizarre to see Professor Snape on his knees, grasping one of the Matron's hands and murmuring low endearments to her, despite her best attempts to shake him off. Hermione was shocked to feel a sharp spike of jealously pierce her gut. _Now where did that come from? I've only had one serious conversation with him, and already I'm behaving like a lovesick adolescent! Ugh, get a grip!_ But she could not deny that she would quite happily place herself in Madam Pomfrey's shoes with no objections whatsoever.

"Miss Granger! Please stop staring and come and help me!" Pomfrey's voice was taking on a pitiful, desperate tone as the Potions Master slowly began to haul more than just her hand into his grip. However, at the sound of Hermione's name, his head snapped up and his eyes focused on her. Hermione sighed, preparing herself for an unsettled Potions Professor now that he'd come back to his senses… _Wait a minute…_

"Hermione," the man purred, slinking forward gracefully and grabbing her left hand in his own large, calloused one. Very slowly, holding her gaze the entire time, he lifted it to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to the back as he sank onto one knee once more. He continued in a soft voice that could have made chocolate melt, "Do you have any idea how beautiful you look just now?" He inhaled her scent and pressed another soft kiss to the palm of her hand. "Beautiful," he sighed again.

Hermione felt her knees almost give out. _Oh, my!_

"Err, Professor?" she squeaked.

"Hush, now!" He lifted two fingers and pressed them to her lips. Hermione trembled. "Goddess, you alone may call me Severus," he purred, holding her gaze with his black eyes as he nuzzled her small hand with his cheek.

"Oh, that's… nice… Severus," she whispered faintly. "Um, how about we go and sit on the bed… so Madam Pomfrey can administer an antidote… or something." Hermione had to stop and swallow hard at that point, for her breath had run out. Those black eyes, staring at her, devoting every single part of that immense intellect to _her_ was making her feel extremely light-headed.

"For you, Naiad, I would do anything." Still staring into her eyes, he raised himself to his feet and walked backwards until he had seated himself on the corner of one of the hospital beds. "Come," he said, indicating his lap with an elegant sweep of his hand.

"Umm… Severus? That's not appropriate… I mean…"

"Of course." He lowered his lids in assent and Hermione gasped in relief as the spotlight beam of his stare was momentarily extinguished. "Whatever you are comfortable with, Hermione. I have no right to complain when I am honoured by your very presence." He pulled her over so that she was forced to settle beside him on the bed. By that point, Hermione was extremely grateful for this; he still hadn't let go of her hand and that warm, solid grip was beginning to get to her.

"Err." Hermione desperately sought Madam Pomfrey's eyes as the woman returned from her office, carrying a small phial of liquid.

Madam Pomfrey noticed her gaze and nodded to her. "It appears our Professor has a bit of a crush."

"What?" she squeaked, her eyes wide, and very conscious of Sever… Snape's gaze on her face.

"You'll notice that he's not paying one jot of attention to me now, whereas he refused to leave me alone earlier. Besides, he's treating you with a lot more respect than he did me. I would say he fancies you."

Hermione stared, eyes wide. "What do I do about it?"

Pomfrey shrugged. "Whatever you like. You're of age and the school's an independent institution now – the Headmaster was going to announce that at dinner – so if you speak to the Headmaster about this, he probably wouldn't mind. Now, get him to drink this, would you? It'll take a couple of minutes, but it'll get him back to normal."

"What exactly happened to him?" Hermione handed the phial to Snape and he drank it trustingly without even taking his eyes off her.

"Oh, somehow Mister Goyle managed to create a type of love potion that made him as high as a kite." Madam Pomfrey gestured at the Professor. "When he first came round, he was babbling about purple skies and giant Sherbet Lemons."

Hermione choked and looked sideways at her amorous companion, who smirked self-deprecatingly when he noticed her looking. Hermione smiled back, beginning to feel more like she was on level ground now that she knew what was going on. "So, Severus? Have you worked out what to do about my hair yet?" she teased him, hoping that resuming their previous conversation would help bring the old Snape back. Not that this one wasn't lovely, but he was a little disconcerting and even a bit disappointing without his snark.

"Why would I want to do that?" The smirk widened and he brought one hand up to gently stroke her hair. "You look so lovely with it this way." The sincerity that he said it with made Hermione's breath catch, and there was a little sadness creeping into his eyes which captivated her even more than his flowery words. It took her several moments to regain her voice.

"Oh? Is that it?" she asked, putting her free hand on her hip and tossing her hair like she'd seen Lavender do. "So I'm going to look like some foolish mutant for the rest of my life just because you _like_ it?"

"Mmhmm," he murmured, capturing a bit between his fingers and leaning in to breathe in its scent. "It reminds me of wild roses and magic and… oh." Hermione snapped her eyes open, wondering when they had closed, and looked up into what were unmistakably Professor Snape's horrified eyes. "Miss Granger, I do apologise. You must be mortified by my deplorable behaviour." He cast his eyes from hers and tried to yank his hand away. Hermione held on.

"On the contrary, Professor. You were most gentlemanly and charming; there is no need to feel ashamed." Quickly, before her nerve left her, she reached up and pecked him on the cheek before letting his hand slip from hers, and hopped off the bed. His eyes widened and his hand rose to his cheek seemingly without conscious thought. "It goes without saying that I will not breathe a word to anyone of this. Goodbye, Professor, I'm glad to see you're feeling better!"

And with that, she hurried out of the Hospital Wing before he could once more regain complete control of his faculties.

* * *

_A/N: What can I say but 'whoops'?_

'Moon' is actually a canon character in Harry's year – we just don't know the sex/House/first name/disposition of this person – but they do exist... so I took liberties. Any tips on how to improve her appearance in this chapter would be much appreciated! 'Cynthia' was picked because 'Kynthia' was one of the names of Artemis, goddess of the moon.

Oh, and the idea of a match-making Madam Pomfrey amuses me. Thoughts, anyone?

And last but not least, thank you very much to my beta Spst for the wonderful help in checking over these chapters and for encouraging me in this story!


	16. Chapter 16

_'mindspeak'_

* * *

**Chapter Sixteen:**

* * *

Dumbfounded into stillness, Severus stared after the girl as she exited the Hospital Wing. _She kissed me._ His hand hadn't moved from his cheek. _Hermione kissed me._ He could still smell her perfume, reminding him faintly of roses. _Oh shit._ He liked her. _Shit, shit, shit. What the hell do I do now?_ He glanced to his left and spotted Poppy. _Double shit. I acted like a complete moron in front of a witness. And I'm attracted to a student._

He dolefully lowered his hand from his cheek, which was tingling in the most disconcerting way. _Maybe I should just pack my bags now before Albus finds out and kicks me out of the school onto my proverbial backside._

"Severus, let me check you over to see if there's any unpleasant, internal side effects… That's it, good! Everything seems to be normal."

"Normal? Normal!" he snarled, feeling completely disorientated. "How can anything be normal when I've just found out that I…" He bit his tongue, refusing to damn himself further.

Poppy's eyes twinkled as she fought back a smile. "When you've just found out that Miss Granger is an attractive young woman with a will of her own? No one will fault you there." She sighed heavily and stood back with her hands on her hips. "Now, Severus, you know I'm not allowed to let you out of the Hospital Wing until tomorrow morning after you've come into contact with an unknown substance. Why don't you just take yourself along to one of the private rooms, hmm?"

Severus narrowed his eyes and put on his best Professor Glare. "My dear woman, you cannot be serious..." Severus trailed off and sighed as he realised that Poppy's Matron Glare was much more effective than his own. "Which room?"

Poppy smiled sweetly. "Third on the left, dear."

Grumbling quietly under his breath, Severus stood and stormed off towards the harridan's office. _Rules and regulations indeed!_ He slowed slightly as he neared the great double doors that stood between him and freedom. _It would only take a minute; I'd be in the dungeons before she'd even raised her wand..._

"Severus?" He glanced over his shoulder in time to see Poppy aim her wand at his chest. "You aren't thinking of leaving, are you?"

_On second thoughts, the private room is probably very comfortable._

He sped up and disappeared into her office, not eager to spend another evening tied to the woman's couch. There was nothing glamorous about the position of Mediwitch's worst patient. When she said she'd use permanent sticking charms, she invariably did.

Severus opened the third door to the left and sighed as he saw the bland, white room. The only accessory, if you could call it that, was the bed, which was already wrapped up in the regulation, starched sheets. Severus angrily snapped the door shut behind him and sat on it before grudgingly lying back to scowl at the ceiling. Unless he somehow managed to spend the rest of his time until the next morning asleep, he was going to end up being very bored. There weren't even any books.

And now there wasn't anything to distract him from his ridiculously lovesick behaviour towards Miss Granger. _Even intoxicated, how could I have behaved so deplorably towards her? I'm a teacher_ _– her teacher – and even if I do think she's lovely, I should keep my opinions to myself._

Severus' heart ached a little as he realised his undignified behaviour had probably impacted negatively on whatever their fledgling relationship had been turning into. It was unlikely they would be able to have a proper conversation from now on without Hermione questioning what it was that her Potions Professor really wanted from her. He reached a hand up and pinched the bridge of his nose. Hard.

_But that doesn't make sense. Even if she was being polite earlier, what reason did she have to kiss me? _As if to reassert the validity of this thought, his cheek renewed the fierce tingling it had started when she brushed her lips against it. Severus' hand jerked involuntarily, smoothing over the place in question. _Could it be...? No. I won't assume. There have been too many times when I have been wrong over things like this in the past. Too many disappointments..._

Severus' gaze hadn't wavered from the ceiling, but the fire that had previously sparked in his eyes had gone out. He was well on his way to becoming morose when he heard the shout.

A loud voice echoed out in the main Hospital Wing, startling Severus from his thoughts. He immediately bolted upright and listened harder. There was no doubt about it – that was Draco Malfoy's voice.

"You have to let me see him. It's important!"

"Now, young man, I'm sure the rest of your housemates are just as worried. Why don't you go and wait with them? Professor Snape will be out by the morning."

"You don't understand! I _need_ to see him now."

Severus was on his feet and running toward the door before he had even thought about what was happening. He knew exactly why Draco wanted to see him, or at least, the reason behind it. Severus grabbed the handle, turned it, and threw his whole weight against the solid wood. The door didn't budge.

_That confounded woman! She's locked me in!_ "Poppy. Poppy!" he called as loudly as he could, still pushing and tugging at the door, but despite the fact that he could hear the conversation next door very clearly, they couldn't seem to hear him. _Drat! One way Silencing Charm. Normally I'd be grateful for the privacy, but now..._

Desperate, Severus scrabbled for his wand, intending to blast the door off its hinges, only to find it missing from its usual place up his sleeve. He searched through all his other pockets to no avail. He had no way of knowing when Poppy had taken it from him, but she obviously knew him well enough to know that he would have used it to escape. However, she couldn't know what a terrible thing she had just done by taking it away from him today.

"Poppy! Draco!" He pounded on the door and rattled the handle to try and attract some attention, but the conversation outside carried on as normal.

"Please? Where is he? I need to see him right away!"

"Professor Snape is not in any condition to receive guests. You'll just have to try again tomorrow morning."

"Tomorrow morning? Even half an hour from now would be too late!"

"Half an hour, hmm? And why would that be, Mr Malfoy?"

"I've got– I've got to– I need..." For a moment, Draco sounded torn, but only for a moment. In his next attempt, his voice came out a lot smoother, a lot more calmly; it was the voice he used for lying. "Oh, I've got to go to Quidditch practice in half an hour and Mother wanted to know if I could come out of school for the weekend. She said she needed to know as soon as possible."

Severus cursed loudly and yelled at the top of his voice for them to open the door, but he went unheard.

"Well then, I'll see what he's like this evening; come by after supper. I do have to take the welfare of my patients seriously, don't you know."

Draco's voice was very polite. "Oh, of course, Madam Pomfrey. Please forgive my overreaction earlier – I wasn't expecting him to be so ill."

"Not at all, now off you go and get ready for Quidditch practice."

"Goodbye, Madam."

Severus closed his eyes and slumped against the doorframe. It was most likely too late now. Draco Malfoy would meet with his father or some other Death Eater, probably in the next half hour, and receive his first marching orders from Voldemort. If he, Severus, had been available to talk to the boy, to protect him, the Dark Lord's ranks would not have gained another follower. Now, all that there was left for Severus to do was wait until Madam Pomfrey opened the door, and pray in the mean time that it wouldn't be too late to rectify the situation.

oooOOOooo

Hermione stumbled along the corridor, too dazed to even realise where she was going. _I kissed Severus Snape. I kissed. Severus Snape. On the cheek. Do I have a death wish?_ She stopped and stared at the wall directly in front of her. Several first years nearby gave the wall a terrified look and hurried away. Hermione didn't notice.

_I even enjoyed it. I wonder if..._ Realising what direction her thoughts were taking, Hermione shook her head violently and hurried towards Gryffindor Tower at a near run. _That way madness lies._

She needed to talk to Harry and Ron, or, more specifically, she needed to _not_ talk to Harry and Ron. She was sure that they would be able to find something, anything, to distract her from the fact that she had inexplicably developed a crush on her Potions teacher. Not that she'd tell them, of course. _Thank God I seem to have finally cracked how to use the bond. The last thing I need at the moment is for them both to have hysterics over the direction my thoughts are taking._

Sighing, Hermione skidded to a halt by the Fat Lady, realising for the first time that she actually needed to know where her friends _were_ before they could be used as distractions for inappropriate thoughts.

Bracing her hand against the wall and ignoring the impatient look on the Fat Lady's face, Hermione reached out with her thoughts. It was Ron who answered first.

_'Hermione! Distract me!'_

_I thought that's what I needed you for... Oh well. 'Why do you need distracting?'_

There was a mental groan._ 'Detention with Filch. My hands are about to fall off...'_

Hermione blinked. _'Detention? Why? What have you done this time?'_

_'Weeell, it might have something to do with me accidently-on-purpose sticking Malfoy to the ceiling, but you never know with Filch.'_

_'You. Stuck Malfoy. To the ceiling.'_

_'Umm, yeah?'_ For some reason, Ron sounded really uncomfortable. Hermione couldn't work out whether it was because of her disapproving tone of voice, or due to whatever unpleasant task Filch had set him.

_'Ron! Ah, never mind! I'll deal with you later. Out of curiosity, why did you even think about doing it in the first place?'_

_'He was looking shifty! I decided that it would be better for all parties if he was kept in a safe place.'_

_'And you consider the ceiling a safe place?'_

_'I think this is the point where all sensible people would answer no...'_

_'Bye, Ron!'_

Hermione cut the connection and resisted the urge to bang her head against the wall. On the bright side, she wasn't thinking about Snape anymore.

Something prodded her mind and she opened it up again, prepared to give Ron the tongue-lashing she had managed to suppress the first time around. Luckily, this time it was her other impulsive friend who was eager to speak with her.

_'Hermione!'_

_'Hey, Harry. Where are you?'_

_'Dorm room. Come quick, I've found something that could help us with the spoon setback!'_

_'We have a setback? I didn't even know we had a plan,'_ Hermione thought to him as she gave the password and climbed through the portrait hole. The Fat Lady had been less than impressed with her lingering outside, and responded by slamming shut behind Hermione. The result of this landed Hermione face-first on the Common Room floor.

_'Hermione? You OK?'_

_'Fine... I just seem to have misplaced my dignity.'_

_'Ah, let it go. It probably needs a little freedom. Hermione, are you coming? This really is something you need to see!'_

_'Fine. I'm coming, I'm coming,' _Hermione grumbled as she scrambled to her feet, directing death glares towards anyone who looked even slightly like they wanted to laugh.

_'How was Snape, by the way?'_ Harry asked as she began to ascend the stairs.

_'Well enough. He seems to be over whatever the potion did to him...' _Saying any more at this point would probably not be prudent. Hermione didn't quite trust her thought processes to keep her newly-gained revelations to herself, so she broke the connection just as she reached the top of the stairs.

"Hermione! Hermione!"

Hermione entered the boys' dorm and looked around, finally spotting Harry perched on the edge of his bed, Snape's spoon held in his hand. Arnold was fast asleep beside him. "What?"

"I've found this really great spell that could distract Snape for an indefinite amount of time." The large grin on Harry's face was enough to make Hermione wary. She approached the bed cautiously.

"Is it safe?"

"'Course. It's an adaptation of a spell we use all the time nowadays. Remember that spell, 'Imita', which we used on Snape's spoon when we were planning the singing...? Um," Harry trailed off as he noticed Hermione glaring at him. "Anyway, I spent two whole nights checking and double checking the new version; it should work like a dream!"

Hermione grudgingly gave in to Harry's enthusiasm. _It must be worth it if Harry put that much research into it. _"Well, all right. Let's see it then."

Harry took up a duelling stance and swiped his wand over the Professor's spoon, which was currently being held tightly in his left hand. Hermione felt a tingle of magic shiver down her spine and the first threads of unease settled in her stomach. Harry pointed his wand towards the middle of the room and intoned, "_Imita magistrum!_"

A ball of brilliant light coalesced in the centre of the room, rapidly extending until it formed itself into a blinding pillar of white. The light pulsed once, before disappearing all together.

Standing where the pillar used to be – face devoid of his customary sneer – was Severus Snape. He slowly turned his unusually open face towards them, puzzlement etched over every feature.

Hermione searched for words and found none.

The Golem looked towards Harry and, all at once, its expression brightened. It grinned and extended its right arm, forefinger pointing at Harry's hand.

"Spoon!" it said.

"Oh dear God!" whimpered Hermione. She glanced towards Harry for guidance; he looked completely lost for words.

"Whoops!" he whispered.

* * *

_A/N: 'Imita magistrum' literally means 'Copy this teacher'. As you might have guessed, Harry's original plan was to distract Snape with a phantom which looked like him... which, naturally, didn't work._


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter Seventeen:**

* * *

After the initial shock had faded slightly, Hermione slowly tore her eyes away from the new figure standing in the room and strode forward until she was invading Harry's personal space. Craning her neck until she could see all of his incredibly guilty face, she glared at him until he met her eyes.

"You bloody imbecile! Why couldn't you have told me the properties of the spell before you cast it? What the hell are we going to do now?" Hermione screeched, feeling a very Snape-like snarl overcoming her features. "How many times have I told you to do the proper research beforehand? How many times–"

"I'm sorry, Hermione; I really did check it! The spell's only to create a mirage of a living creature. It wasn't meant to make him solid!"

"Just because you don't know your own magical strength–"

"Bloody Imbecile!"

They both froze and slowly turned their heads to see the Snape grinning and pointing at Harry as if it had just solved the mystery to the universe.

"Err?" said Harry.

The golem turned to Hermione, instead making her the subject of its pointing finger.

"Hermione!" it said.

"Oh dear God!" Hermione moaned. "It _learns!_"

"Oh dear God!" the Snape chirruped. The fact that its companions were staring at it with fascinated horror didn't seem to affect it in the slightest.

"Harry!" Hermione hissed out of the corner of her mouth. "What the hell do we do now?" She was so distracted that she didn't even notice she'd repeated her original question.

"Umm..." Harry swallowed and blinked owlishly. "Name it?"

Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose and prayed for patience. Sometimes she was sure she knew exactly how Professor Snape must feel on a Monday morning. "Harry..." she began to snap, prepared to give him a very large piece of her mind, but the second she caught sight of the Snape again, her voice trailed off.

"Hermione, angry?" it asked, giving her an extremely forlorn look. Hermione felt a lump slowly form in her throat and cursed herself for her sentimentality.

"I'm not angry with you... err, Snape. I'm just a little annoyed with my friend here," she said quietly, modulating her tone.

As she had hoped, the copy of the man they knew brightened immediately. "I, Snayip?" it asked her cheerfully.

"Not quite," Harry said, his lips quirking. "It's '_Snape'_."

Snayip stomped his foot and glared. "No! Snayip!" He would have looked more menacing if he hadn't been pouting.

Hermione sat on the bed and let her head fall into her hands. _How the hell do things like this happen to us? _Harry, strangely, didn't appear to be bothered by the duplicate of their Potions professor throwing a tantrum. Hermione wondered if it might have something to do with living with his Muggle relatives for two months of the year.

"I suppose it would be impossible to convince you that my name is 'Harry', then?"

"Bloody Imbecile," Snayip said firmly.

"All right, then..." For a moment, Harry looked lost but he quickly regained his composure.

"Well, Snayip, are you hungry?"

The golem thought for a minute before nodding.

"OK, then. You stay here and I'll go and get food." Harry started to make his way towards the door.

"With Hermione?" Snayip asked as a frown started to cloud his features.

"Yes, you get stay here with Hermione," Harry told him, giving him a large smile before running out the door.

"Hang on a minute!" Hermione yelped as she just realised that she had been coerced into remaining in a room with someone who had the mental ability of a toddler. "Harry!"

There was no answer.

_Oh well, _Hermione thought,_ at least I know he can learn pretty fast. Now, what to do with him?_

Pursing her lips and steeling herself, Hermione surrendered to the inevitable. "Snayip?"

Snayip blinked and broke his vigil of staring at the door long enough to glance at Hermione. "Is Bloody Imbecile coming back?" he asked in a soft voice. Hermione's heart wavered, and then melted.

"Of course he is. He's just gone to get you food, remember?"

A shy smile stole across the man's lips. "Yeah." He turned away from the door and came to sit cross-legged at Hermione's feet. "Talk to me."

Hermione blinked, completely taken aback by the sight of the man she had recently developed a crush on sitting at her feet and staring at her with adoration. It wasn't doing much for her mental state. "Err," she gulped, "what about?"

Snayip's eyes sparkled. "Anything."

Hermione stared down into the wide, black eyes watching her and almost sighed. _Well, I did want to capture Snape's attention again. I think this is one of these cases where I should have been careful of what I wished for._

"All right," she said slowly, trying to buy herself some time to think of something to say. "Do you know what a castle is, Snayip?" She paused long enough to see the man's head bob. "Well, right now, we are inside a huge castle called Hogwarts."

Snayip's eyes went impossible wider. "Really?"

Hermione smiled despite herself. "Yes, really. But Hogwarts is really special; it's a _magical _castle!" she told her rapt audience, and belatedly realised she was behaving as if she were speaking to her three year old cousin. "Loads of people come here to learn more about magic and see how good they are at it."

"Learn a lot, Hermione?"

Hermione had to pause and gather herself for a minute; the man's deep voice and the manner in which he had asked the question were at complete odds with each other.

"Yes, lots. But, the important thing that _you_ need to know at the moment," Snayip sat straighter, "is that _you_ were created out of magic." Hermione smiled at the gobsmacked expression spreading across Snape's familiar features; he really was quite cute like this. Hermione had to repress an image of this man as a solemn looking, black haired child. "The problem is, Harry wasn't supposed to create you. We need to keep you a _complete_ secret, understand?"

Snayip nodded solemnly.

"You need to trust us and do exactly what we say when we say it. You also must stay out of sight of everyone except Harry and me, unless we tell you otherwise. Do you understand all of this?"

Snayip nodded.

"You sure?"

Snayip nodded again and wriggled forward to lean against Hermione's leg. "Snayip trust Hermione," he mumbled, and promptly drifted off to sleep.

Hermione sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose again. How could something that started with a spoon get out of hand so quickly? _Has it really only been a week or so since the most I had to worry about was finishing an assignment in time? Oh, and evade Voldemort's latest evil scheme of course._

She looked down and sighed at Arnold as he shuffled onto the bed beside her.

"What on Earth are we going to do now, Arnold?"

Arnold gave a foam-ish shrug and settled down to take another nap. Little did Hermione know that what he'd been up to recently wasn't going to improve her situation any. However, it wasn't like _he_ was going to tell her about that.

oooOOOooo

After a good amount of time spent pacing and quietly swearing, Severus had had a brainwave. It had indeed taken him a while to lock away his conflicting emotions away like he did when he was spying, but he had managed eventually – after all, he had done the same in situations much worse than this one.

Hopefully by now he wouldn't be too late to sort out the situation with Malfoy; after all, it had barely been half an hour since the child had stormed in and out of the Hospital Wing. In fact, Severus was pretty sure he'd be able to catch up with the boy before too long... Then he'd catch him, shake him and demand what the hell the little twit had been thinking! It was good to fantasize about at least.

Of course, right this minute he did have to deal with the rather pesky business of finding his way down the outside of the castle wall first. Fingers clinging to the stone-work, booted feet securely wedged along the ledge he was standing on, Severus began to wonder whether this had been the best idea after all.

Like all wizards, Severus found that heights didn't bother him. Unfortunately, all too often, this was localized to times when they were securely perched on a broomstick, and Severus was starting to become aware that he might have a slight touch of acrophobia.

This was not helped by the strong, Scottish winds whipping his robes around him.

Cursing softly, Severus edged his way further along the side of the building, determined not to look down. It was starting to occur to him that he didn't know how to get off the wall and back onto the ground without a long drop and a sharp stop.

He tried not to think about that too much.

Finally, he reached a corner created by a straight wall – the one which he was currently moving along – and the curve of a tower. Severus very slowly and carefully adjusted to this new terrain. He supposed he could just use his emergency Portkey – the Mokeskin pouch concealed under his robes – but that would land him in Dumbledore's office, and knowing the Headmaster's sense of humour, he would just end up back in the Hospital Wing with bars across his window.

All he knew was that he just had to get to Draco before the boy did something monumentally stupid.

A sharp gust of wind almost knocked him off his balance, causing him to give a sharp yelp. He had just regained his footing when the window above his head flew open.

"_Severus?_"

Severus looked up sharply and beheld the first bit of luck he'd encountered all day. Hooch and Sinistra were hanging out of the window overhead, their mouths wide open in astonishment. _Well,_ Severus conceded,_ it's not every day you see the resident Potions Master clinging to the outside of the castle wall._

"Snape, what in the name of Quidditch are you doing?" Rolanda asked, still looking completely gobsmacked. Aurora was having less trouble believing what her eyes had told her and had started to laugh.

"Isn't it obvious, Rolanda? Hogwarts' resident Houdini is at it again!"

Severus almost growled – blast her Muggle upbringing for teaching her that reference! "Do shut up, Sinistra!" he snapped instead. "Do something useful for once in your life and find a way to get me off this wall!"

Rolanda, who now also had a hand over her mouth to stifle her giggles, pulled her head back through the window and hurried off somewhere, leaving Severus alone to deal with the Astronomy Professor, who showed no signs of leaving anytime soon.

"Will you stop laughing!" he snarled at her, his uneasiness of being so high up increasing with every passing second.

"Sorry," she said breezily, swallowing the last of her giggles and looking totally unrepentant. "Now, rumour has it that someone covered you in something unmentionable. Is that true?"

"Unfortunately," Severus said grudgingly, "yes." Far be it from him to add to the Hogwarts rumour mill, but it was a highly likely possibility that she would leave him where he was if he offended her.

Aurora's smirk grew a little strained, but she managed to suppress her mirth. "And I take it this is your latest bid for freedom from dear Poppy." She sighed dramatically. "The poor woman; you have no appreciation for her work..."

Suddenly remembering the reason why he had made his escape attempt, Severus clicked his fingers to catch her attention. He didn't dare make movements that were any more extravagant.

"Aurora," he whispered urgently, "have you seen Mr Malfoy anywhere within the last half hour?"

Sensing the serious turn of the conversation, Aurora frowned. "Yes, of course, it's rather difficult to miss him."

"Pardon?" Severus was completely baffled.

"Apparently Ron Weasley took exception to him sneaking about and used a spell to glue the young man in question to the ceiling of the Entrance Hall."

Severus closed his eyes and sighed in relief, blessing the impetuousness of Weasleys for the first time in his life. "And is he still there?"

"Yes," a mischievous smile stole through Aurora's sombre expression, "they haven't been able to find a way to get him off, through magic or otherwise."

"Good."

"Good?" Aurora was now incredulous. "Someone attacks one of the students under your care and you're _pleased?_" She added, almost to herself, "Well, that's never happened before."

Severus ignored her. "Aurora, I need you to go and find him immediately, and once you've done that, I don't want him to leave your sight. This is very important!"

Aurora's brow crinkled. "Only on the condition that I can see how you get off the wall first. That would be just too funny to miss!"

Severus sighed and leaned his head against the cold stone, wondering what else could possibly happen this year which would give people more fodder for ridiculing him. Luckily, just then Rolanda returned with a school broomstick held firmly in one hand.

"Here, Severus, catch!" she called loudly, leaning out the window and tossing the broom down to him carelessly.

Severus managed to fling out his arm and catch the broom one-handed, but the momentum this movement produced caused him to fall off the wall.

Fortunately, it was a very short fall, seeing as the broom ended up being directly underneath him.

He glared up at the two women, who were laughing at him again. "All right, now that you've amused yourselves thoroughly, would you kindly take your less than pleasant visages elsewhere?"

Aurora chuckled to herself and walked off down the corridor, leaving Severus to wonder why she was still being halfway friendly to him, when – in their usual relationship – she normally hated his guts by now.

Rolanda also left soon after, but not before the Quidditch instructor had given him a mischievous smirk. Severus had a sinking feeling that what had happened would be all around the staff room by evening.

Sighing, he directed his broom to fly through the window and land in the empty corridor. Leaving it propped against the wall, he quickly hurried away, eager to get away from anywhere that Poppy could find him. Finding an abandoned classroom to lurk in for several hours was sounding a better and better idea with every minute that passed.

Of course, what he'd really like to do was continue hunting for the errant Draco immediately, but if Poppy caught him, he'd be back in the Hospital Wing before he'd even have a chance to explain the full situation. And a fat lot of good that would do him. No, he had to hide away and stay out of sight until the matron was busy with something else. At least Draco wasn't currently _mobile._ Besides, Sinistra would stop the boy from being too foolish and leaving the castle entirely.

Wouldn't she?


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter Eighteen:**

* * *

Once Harry had returned with the food and had good-naturedly put up with Snayip fixedly grinning at him for five minutes, things went surprisingly smoothly.

Snayip ate his meat pie with no complaint and even managed to finish his pumpkin juice without wrinkling his nose too much. Hermione was consistently stunned by Harry's blasé attitude towards the latest member of the group, which Harry had started to call 'The Spoon Raiders'. Hermione had just groaned silently when she heard this and had hid her face in her knees; when Harry got an idea in his head, there was very little anyone else could do to stop him.

She raised her head and lazily watched her best friend explaining the mechanics of a pineapple to Snayip. Sometimes the world about her made her wonder if _she_ were the insane one, instead of it being the other way around.

Arnold had also taken a sudden, unexpected liking to Snayip and was currently perched on his left knee. This time, the only explanation Hermione could come up with was that they had both been created by Harry Potter.

"Hermione! Pineapple!" Snayip grinned at her and held the fruit in question over his head.

Hermione forced a smile. "Yes, that's right, Snayip. You're learning things very well." As of yet, she had not come up with an explanation as to why the copy of her Potions Master had taken a liking to her. Harry, she could understand. The Boy Hero had created him after all, but her?

_Oh God. _Hermione's eyes widened in horror as slow realisation began to dawn. _Imprinting_. _I'm a Mummy._ She sighed and closed her eyes at the irony of it all. _Harry will be lucky if I ever speak to him again after all this is sorted out._

The boy in question came over and plopped himself down beside Hermione. "So, where do you think we should put him? The Room of Requirement?"

Hermione gave him a scathing look. "Don't you think it would be a little too conspicuous if it suddenly stopped working? Especially seeing as you told the whole Order about it in our sixth year, coupled with the fact that they're currently using it as a war supplies room on a regular basis?"

Harry pursued his lips. "Point."

"Exactly."

"Uh huh."

"So? What are _you_ going to do about it, _Harry?_"

"I... no, Snayip, you need to cut the spiky bits off before you eat it. Here; I'll do it for you."

After a simple wave of Harry's wand, the pineapple shed its outer skin. Totally unperturbed, Snayip gave Harry a grin, spat out the spiky green leaf from his mouth and got stuck in to the newly exposed fruit.

"I think I'd make quite a good dad."

Hermione snorted. "You? You'd spoil the child rotten and then leave the resulting tantrums up to your poor, harassed wife to deal with!"

"Hey!" Harry gave Hermione an offended look. "I would never harass any wife of mine. Anyway," he continued, ignoring Hermione's, 'Oh, really?' look, "yes, I need practice. I'll... I dunno... take responsibility courses or something before I reproduce, OK?"

"Harry..." Hermione bit her lip, "talking of responsibility..."

Harry read the look in her eyes and tensed. "Hermione..." he sighed, sounding harassed himself.

"You need to do something about it, Harry. It's a big thing..."

"Hermione, look!" He yanked up both sleeves, revealing arms littered with fading white scars, and held them in front of Hermione's face. "See? Not a scratch since last summer! I told you I haven't done it again and I've never," here he lowered his voice, casting a glance over to the oblivious Snayip, "_cut_ on anywhere except my arms."

Harry swallowed, looking awfully pale from his confession. "It was a horrible thing to do to myself, even though it helped at the time. Besides, it's not as if I can get help now. Can you imagine the headlines? The Death Eaters are looking for the slightest weakness, and they would have no qualms about manipulating something like this."

Hermione opened her mouth to say something, but Harry cut across her, "_After_ the war's over, Hermione. Until then... well, I wouldn't mind talking to you and Ron about it, OK?"

Hermione nodded, feeling a little weepy, and shuffled closer to give Harry a hug, which he allowed.

"Don't worry, Harry. We'll get him soon; even if we have to use salad dressing to do it."

Harry snorted and grinned at the reference before casually slinging an arm around her and staring up at the ceiling.

"What was I saying? Oh yes, coming up with alternative accommodations for junior here, hmm..." Harry leaned back and let his eyes drift closed. For a few minutes, there was silence which was only broken by Snayip's few, softly spoken words to Arnold. Then, Harry's eyes snapped open, a mischievous twinkle evident in his eyes.

"Hermione, what is it we always do when we're at a loss on how to do something?"

Hermione eyed him warily. "I don't know. What _do_ we do?"

"Consult the Marauders, of course!" Harry leapt up and bounded over to his trunk. Once there, he muttered something lowly, which Hermione couldn't quite catch, and yanked out the Marauders Map after the lock had clicked open.

"Ta da!" He waved the parchment in front of Hermione's nose. "If anyone knows of a secret chamber were we can hide a person, it'll be them. It's not as if we can leave him," he jerked his thumb at Snayip, "in the Chamber of Secrets. He might get scared and it's too far for us to go to get to him if he needs us. I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

Harry tapped the parchment with his wand, ducking his head; probably so Hermione wouldn't see his face flushing red. She smirked down at the top of his messy hair. It was quite cute that he'd developed some fatherly concern for their latest not-so-little charge. The poor thing needed someone on his side. It wasn't as if the man who'd been his template was going to welcome him, and if the rest of the population of Hogwarts ever found out about him, they'd shun him because of his resemblance to Professor Snape.

_Poor Snayip,_ she thought as she watched Harry studying the map with heightened scrutiny, _he really is going to have a tough time of it, no matter what happens. We don't even know if this spell is permanent or if it will wear out after a certain amount of time._ She shook her head and sighed. _Poor Snayip..._

"Hermione," Harry said softly, his voice quaking a little with suppressed excitement, "you're not going to believe this..."

"What?" She leaned forward eagerly. "What is it?"

Harry pressed the map into her hands and pointed a slightly shaking finger to a room on it. It took a moment for Hermione to realise what he was getting excited about.

"But, Harry... This room's right in the middle of Gryffindor Tower!"

Harry's eyes were alight with interest. "I know! Have you ever heard of an extra room leading off from the Common Room? Something like that would be regular gossip around here, but no one's ever said a word! Fred and George would have known, but they're not here anymore! I'd bet my boots that that room's been abandoned and forgotten for years now."

"Harry, you don't own any boots."

Harry looked stumped for a minute. "Well... well, I'll buy some boots and _then_ bet on them! Come on, let's go and have a look."

"Harry, there'll be _people_ in there. Today's only a half day of lessons."

"You leave that to me; I'll be able to get rid of them easily enough. Now, let's get Snayip and set off. Do you know where Ron might be?"

"Serving detention with Filch... Don't ask."

Harry grinned. "Well, I won't ask you, but I might ask _him_." His face took on a faraway look for a couple of minutes before his eyes slowly focused on Hermione once more. "Right! He knows all about the situation and said that he'd meet us at supper... if he can get away, of course." Harry shrugged sheepishly. "Filch was almost ready to send him on his way, but Ron dropped a pail of water on the old grouch's feet when I told him about Snayip."

Hermione sighed and massaged her temples. Dealing with her two best friends was a full time job. She sometimes wondered how she managed to fit anything else in around sorting out their mistakes.

"Harry," she said firmly, "we'll deal with Ron later. Let's get Snayip and..." Her voice trailed off as her eyes tried to deny what she was seeing. "Snayip, what did you _do?_"

Snayip blinked at her innocently, his hands folded demurely in his lap. Perched, motionless, on one of his knees was an iridescent Arnold. Harry and Hermione watched in disbelief as the foam's colour flashed from yellow, to green, to purple, to blue and back to orange again in a good imitation of the Muggle world's best strobe lighting. Every colour change Arnold went through was sparklingly bright and impossible to ignore.

Snayip wriggled uncomfortably and the innocent look slipped. "Arnold... like pineapple?" he mumbled quietly to his hands. He flashed a quick look at Hermione and gave her a slight smile. "Arnold pretty," he muttered shyly while gently petting the flashing foam.

Hermione could almost sense how quickly the coming migraine was building. "Nice as that is, Snayip, you must not feed pineapples to Arnold, or any other kind of food for that matter. Don't you remember what I told you that you must do?"

Snayip fidgeted and pouted a little. "Do everything Hermione and Bloody Imbecile say," he mumbled reluctantly.

Hermione didn't budge an inch. "And?" she inquired, eyebrow raised.

Snayip huffed and jammed his hands underneath his armpits. "Snayip must not be seen," he said sullenly.

"Exactly." Hermione rewarded Snayip with a smile, but that just made him pout even more. "Don't you think an armful of flashing foam will attract people's attention enough for them to notice you?"

Snayip looked even more miserable. "Yes." Then, more grudgingly, he murmured, "Snayip not feed Arnold."

Hermione gave him a big smile. "That's all I ask." She stood, walked over to him and stroked his hair a little, trying to ignore the greasy texture. "Good boy. Now, why don't we go and have a look at your new room, hmm?" she asked, offering him her hand.

Snayip looked confused. "Snayip no stay with Hermione?"

"No, you get to have your _very own_ room," Hermione told him, hoping this wouldn't cause a tantrum, but all Snayip did was to grab her hand and use it to help pull himself up.

"'Kay."

"Good boy," Hermione said again and tugged his hand for him to follow her. Harry gave her the 'thumbs up' and darted down the stairs from the dormitory. Hermione waited at the top of the stairs, Snayip's hand tucked safely into hers (or rather her hand tucked safely into _his_), and waited for Harry to give them the all clear. She managed to catch a couple of words from his explanation, things like: 'dungbomb,' 'Second Years,' and 'plan,' and was immediately certain that the Common Room would empty in mere seconds.

"Hermione? Let's go."

"Coming, Harry," she called and gently tugged on Snayip's hand to get him to follow her. Despite looking unaccountably nervous, he followed her meekly enough, Arnold safely tucked under one arm. Hermione briefly wondered what Ron would make of what had happened to his new 'pet'.

"Quickly, Hermione."

"All right, all right. We're here." Hermione hurried across Common Room to where Harry was standing beside a large tapestry of a lion prowling through the Forbidden Forest. Snayip had pulled his hand out of hers, but had followed along behind her complacently enough.

"Well, Snayip, your room should be behind here if we're lucky!"

Snayip looked at Harry as though he had grown an extra arm. He looked at the wall, and then back at Harry.

"Why thank you. I've always wanted a _flat_ room."

"Ahh!" Hermione sprang away in surprise. Unfortunately, as there happened to be a couch standing directly behind her, her descent to the floor could be considered certainly less dignified than it would have been otherwise.

Harry peered over the back of the sofa. "Smooth, Hermione."

"Ah, shut up!" She hastily tried to dislodge all the fluff that had somehow made its way into her mouth over the course of three seconds. "And you!" She pointed an accusing finger at Snayip. "Since when did _you_ acquire a vocabulary?"

Snayip's eyebrows rose up his forehead and it could clearly be seen that he was trying to suppress a smirk. "Are you complaining?" he asked innocently as he helped haul her up off the floor.

"Yes!" She scowled fiercely at him. "You can't suddenly go changing your speech pattern without any warning! It's just not the done thing!"

Harry mock-sighed and aimed an amused glance with Snayip. "Ah, they grow up so fast."

The innocent look on Snayip's face increased. "Hermione, mad?"

"Oh, just, just be quiet!" Hermione pushed away from him and quickly dusted down the front of her robes. "There are only so many shocks I can deal with in one day! First, Snape gets down on his knees and practically proposes to me, then _you _happened – which is enough to give any normal person a mental breakdown – and now you can suddenly _talk_ without needing _any_ time to even properly learn English!"

"Err, Hermione? Can I just back you up a few steps there?"

Hermione stopped screeching and waving her arms about wildly to stare at Harry in bewilderment. "What? I mean... Pardon?"

"Well, I got the bit about you being upset about Snayip appearing... and how he suddenly has perfect diction." Harry raised an eyebrow at Snayip, who smirked back unrepentantly. "And, of course, there's no way we can tell if that was a magical phenomenon or if he was having us on all along, but, and let me get this perfectly clear in my head..." Harry stared at her as though she had just admitted to liking Morris dancing. "Snape _proposed_ to you?"

Apparently saying it out loud was even more unbelievable than thinking it, especially considering how Harry's eyebrows had long since disappeared into his hairline.

Hermione hid her face in her hands. _I did not just say that. Please say I did not just say that!_

She lowered her hands. _Yes, I did. Otherwise, Snayip and Harry would not be snickering at me like that._ "He did not! He was just acting strangely because of the potion. He did not propose to me! He, he... Stop _laughing! _And when I said that_, I meant both of you!_"


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter Nineteen:**

* * *

While discontinuing the search for a convenient abandoned classroom might have appeared to be a bad idea on the surface, Severus was certain that he actually had a _good plan_ to make up for his seemingly bad idea. He still really would have preferred to go 'Draco hunting' instead, but he was fairly certain that his _good plan_ had merits in this regard as well.

_Of course,_ _I have been wrong before_...

Not that he'd ever, ever admit this revelation out loud.

But, after giving the plan a great deal of doubt, Severus decided that, while Dumbledore did enjoy practical jokes, he wouldn't deliberately put him in the path of an angry Madam Pomfrey. However, this shaky certainty started to waver more and more with every step he took towards Albus' office. The idea that Poppy might already be there, waiting for him, made him want to cringe and run for it, but – seeing as he could be as stubborn as an angry mule sometimes – he kept purposefully striding towards the stone gargoyle at the end of the corridor. To his immense surprise, it hopped aside before he even had a chance to recall the latest sickly password. Never one to pass up a golden opportunity, Severus nodded at the creature and hurried up the moving staircase, hoping the guardian's complacence was a good sign for him, instead of meaning Poppy was waiting for him.

His knuckles had barely connected with the wood before the door was yanked open.

"Severus?"

There are some instances in life where there are no words to describe them. Severus had not only decided that this was one such occurrence, but also that he was quite within his rights to stare, dumbfounded, a few seconds longer.

The Headmaster was holding the door open with one hand while his other was currently firmly clapped over his eyes with his face turned towards the ceiling.

_Is he in pain? Or just simply all the way around the twist? Am I, for some strange reason unknown to myself, supposed to copy him? Is this part of a new staff training exercise, maybe?_

His thoughts were interrupted by an impatient Albus. "If that is you, Severus, you'd better come in quickly. Poppy's on her way up right now."

That was enough to drive any uncertainty from Severus' mind and he dove inside the office, slamming the door behind him as he went.

Albus grabbed his upper arm with unerring accuracy for someone who was – for all intents and purposes – blind. "Quickly then, dear boy."

He found himself being hurried over to a tiny supply closet, whose door Albus immediately opened. Severus began to reassess his thoughts of the Headmaster's sanity. It appeared he was much further gone than anyone had previously suspected.

"It's bigger on the inside. In you go. Poppy's almost at the gargoyle."

Not thinking any further on the matter, Severus hurriedly crouched down and scrambled inside. The door was shut on him, leaving him sitting in musty darkness that was, surprisingly, quite roomy. Keeping perfectly still, he listened to Albus' footsteps moving away and tried to regulate his breathing.

What felt like mere seconds later, Madam Pomfrey stormed into the office. Severus winced as the door banged back against the wall and idly clasped his hands in his lap, wondering how Albus planned to get him out of this one.

"Albus Dumbledore!"

"No need to shout, Poppy. Why don't you sit down and have a nice cup of tea...?"

"Don't even start on that with me, Albus. He's gone, and I'm willing to bet my position that you know where he is!"

"Calm down, Poppy dear. I'm afraid I cannot respond to your accusations until you tell me what they actually _are_."

Severus found he could almost _see_ the old man's twinkling eyes and benign smile through the solid wood of the door and had to suppress a snort.

Poppy's voice abruptly went cold, "Severus Snape escaped from the Hospital Wing, instead of remaining in isolation like he was_ supposed _to."

Severus flinched and pulled slightly further back into the cupboard. If she caught him, it would be worse than simple Sticking charms for him – a lot worse.

"Poppy, if you have come here under the impression that I am harbouring our errant Potions Master, I am afraid you must brace yourself to be disappointed – I have not laid eyes on Severus once since I heard of his rather unfortunate incident."

Severus almost choked. _Well, at least that explains the hand over the eyes... However, I am beginning to feel like I'm involved in a giant game of hide and seek._ The Headmaster had an incredible talent for making you feel like you'd had woken up in the wrong universe that morning. If given the opportunity, Severus would have tried to slam his head against the nearest wall. Unfortunately, Poppy was still in the other room, so he'd have to wait until later.

There was silence for a moment, then, "Wizard's Oath, Albus?"

"Of course. I give my Wizard's Oath that I have not seen Severus at all since before the Potions accident. I wish you luck in your search, Poppy."

"You're not going to help me?"

"Too much paperwork to do, I'm afraid. Let me know how you've got on at dinner!"

Severus heard a loud huff, a slammed door and then silence. He wondered how much longer Albus planned to keep him in the cupboard. He almost could swear there was something behind him which was stroking his hair. It was most unsettling.

"You can come out now, dear boy!"

_Finally!_ Severus shoved at the cupboard door firmly. Maybe a little too firmly, for the next thing he knew, he was lying sprawled on the office floor, covered in dust and cobwebs.

Cursing, and trying to ignore Albus' laughter, Severus pulled himself out and dusted his robes off, turning to direct a glare at the cupboard. He jumped back, trying to contain yelp of surprise, as something that looked very much like a hand scuttled back out of the light spilling into the cupboard from the office.

Shaken, Severus turned back to the chuckling Headmaster. He'd had more than enough already today and dealing with perpetually happy pensioners was not on his 'want to do' list. Maybe if he asked permission to hex the _thing_, it would make him feel better...

"Ah, Severus, I see you've met my helping hand – she likes to hide in there on Tuesdays and Fridays. I haven't quite worked out why yet... Very useful the rest of the time, though." As usual, Albus looked supremely unconcerned by the downright bizarre. Severus pretended not to be disappointed about being unable to try out his new Frazzling Hex.

Deciding that there was no point in continuing to pursue the current topic – it would most likely result in the offering of sweets and lengthy explanations of things he really wouldn't want to know about – Severus took a chair in front of the Headmaster's desk.

"Tea?" Not waiting for an answer, Albus flicked his wand and teacup appeared, floating in front of Severus.

"I don't suppose I have much choice in the matter," Severus grumbled to himself, but nevertheless, he found himself tilting the cup to his lips and taking a large swallow. The scalding liquid felt good to his disquieted nerves.

"That is entirely up to you, Severus." Albus twinkled happily as he arranged the parchment on his desk. "You could have always refused the tea."

"And subject myself to an hour long lecture about the benefits of tea drinking? No thank you."

"Ah, I see you're learning."

Severus glared. "Stop _twinkling_. I have just spent the better part of an hour stuck to the Castle's outside wall, many more metres above the ground than I would commonly prefer to be. Add to this the fact that I have just been stuffed into your closet and been _stroked_ by a disembodied hand, you could say that I am in no way in the mood to deal with your incessant chirpiness!"

Albus leaned back, folded his hands together on the desk and regarded Severus seriously for a few moments. "I can see how you must be unimpressed by my insensitivity – this calls for drastic measures." The Headmaster rummaged in one of his desk draws for a moment before looking up again. The twinkle was back. "Severus, would you care for a Sherbet Lemon?" he asked, cheerfully offering a paper bag to his stunned Potions teacher.

"No!" roared Severus the second he regained the ability of speech. Unfortunately, there weren't many more words that could express his outrage, so he stopped there.

Dumbledore hid his smile behind the paper packet and proceeded to break down into uncontrollable, silent chuckles.

Severus grabbed his teacup and downed the contents, longing for alcohol. _Why is my life never even vaguely normal?_ "Feeling better, Albus?" he snapped once the Headmaster had finally got his breathing under control.

"Inordinately, Severus," Albus told him cheerfully. "Now, was there anything you wanted to relay to me about this afternoon's events?"

And so, much to his surprise, Severus found himself ranting about what had happened ever since he had tried to beat Albus over the head with a student's essay, though he was careful to edit what _precisely_ had happened in the Hospital Wing. Albus laughed at all the right places and gasped in mock horror in others. Severus actually found himself beginning to enjoy the tale and find a certain amusement in it, which he blamed entirely on Albus. Annoying, troublesome old man that he was – always meddling with other people's emotions!

Luckily, the matter of Draco was quickly brought up and dealt with – the Headmaster had merely had to wave his hand at one of the peculiar oddments around the room, and it had started to let out a quiet succession of ticks. Apparently, if Draco were to move – or be moved – with intentions of leaving the castle, a warning bell would sound, giving Dumbledore the opportunity to quickly seal off all exits and activate anti-Portkey wards.

Severus wasn't quite sure whether he should be relieved or worried about the extent his friend had the castle's magic under his control now the Ministry had removed all of their influence.

He had finished his account feeling annoyingly relaxed, and completely unable to summon up any great irritation towards Albus. Not that the Headmaster could help it anyway, he seemed to constantly give off an unconscious, positive energy that affected other people – whether they wanted it or not.

Lazily finishing off his third cup of tea, Severus leant back and regarded Albus through vaguely sleepy eyes. Time to bring up something his mind had been toying with for a while. "Albus..." he started cautiously. "I was wondering if I could ask a favour of you."

Albus sat up straighter in interest. "Ask away, dear boy. You know I will always listen."

Severus set his cup down on the small side table by his chair and idly slid his fingers around the brim, feigning disinterest. "It has come to my attention that I have rather more brewing duties on my hands than I am able to deal with at the moment. Between the potions I make for the Order, the Dark Lord and the Hospital Wing, I find myself a bit bogged down." He paused. "I understand it is common procedure in such circumstances as these to make a request to the Headmaster for an Apprentice."

Albus smiled and nodded for him to go on. "I can tell you have someone in mind..."

Severus decided to be blunt. "Hermione Granger. She and I have come to a more amicable working relationship of late and she is better placed than any other student to be trusted with helping me. Besides, if the Dark Lord asks, I can always say I am trying to ingratiate myself with Potter's friends... or that you forced me to do so."

The twinkle in Albus' eyes increased and Severus briefly wondered if he had been caught out. It wasn't like he wanted her down in the dungeons because of some foully craven interest on his part, it was more that... he wanted to spend more time with her – to get to know her – to see if he could make her laugh...

Severus almost sneered in horrified disgust at the direction his thoughts were taking. He was becoming, God forbid, _sentimental._ He shook his head a little and forced himself to listen to what Albus was saying.

"... and of course, she can already be trusted to know the real reason – she knows of the Order, after all. Excellent choice, Severus! I am very proud of you for putting aside your differences for the good of the cause."

Albus smiled at him and Severus forced himself not to squirm as he felt both ashamed and pleased of the Headmaster's praise. "It is nothing Headmaster; she is simply the most effective for the job."

"Whatever you say, Severus. Whatever you say..." Albus leaned over and offered Fawkes a Sherbet Lemon, which the bird snapped up instantly. "Ah, it is truly wonderful to have a familiar with no teeth. Dental bills, don't you know," he said as an aside to Severus.

Severus refused to comment – he had long ago come to the conclusion that what little sanity Fawkes had once possessed had been eroded away over the years by constant exposure to sugar and battiness. Certainly, he looked normal enough to an outside observer, but when you have been woken no less than nine times by the self-same bird sitting on your chest and belting out the national anthem, the majesty of the Phoenix no longer held the same appeal.

"So, Severus, has there been any more news from our little friends?"

Severus jumped a little at the abrupt change in topic and sudden seriousness in the old man's tone, slightly relieved that he hadn't been the only one to worry about the silence from the Dark Lord's ranks. "None whatsoever. To tell the truth, I am beginning to wonder if I am purposefully being left out of the loop. After all, the Dark Lord cannot spend all of his time hyped up on Cheering Charms and still be causing the havoc he has been."

Albus steepled his fingers together and observed him in a manner that reminded Severus of the way he looked at some of his Potions specimens. "Quite, quite. It does seem most unnatural that he hasn't let you know about any plans besides the faux raid planned for tonight – Kingsley says he has that under complete control but I cannot help but be a little... anxious. Have you any theories on that?"

"None," Severus snapped again, pushing himself out of his chair to pace, the nervous energy he had been beginning to feel at the Dark Lord's silence hitting him full force. "They've got something else planned soon, I am sure of it, but I have no inkling of what it might be. I have received no word, no hints, no instructions and that in itself is most unusual."

"Perhaps..." Albus paused, "it would be best if you were to ignore the Call next time it happens."

Severus shot him a cold look. "Absolutely not."

The Headmaster sighed as though that response had been exactly what he had expected. "I do hope you remember my words to you earlier this term; a live fighter is much better than a dead spy."

Feeling petulant at Albus' pushing, Severus ignored him completely, preferring instead to stare out across the slightly darkening grounds. Another sigh was heard from behind him, but he didn't look around. In fact, the only movement he made was a slight twitch of surprise when someone's hand came to rest on his shoulder – as always, the Headmaster had managed to move like a cat.

"I am well aware of your opinion on this matter, my boy, and I feel a great deal of pride and respect because of this, but I just wish for you to be aware that I would miss you terribly if you were to fall afoul of Tom's temper."

Severus gave a sharp nod and said nothing in response to the words, aware that no reply was needed. Besides, how could he, Severus Snape, give that much away about his motivations and that which he cared about? It was one of the many things that had bothered him about his potion-induced actions earlier that afternoon – he was never that honestly open with anybody.

The hand gave a final squeeze before being removed all together. "Well, it's almost time for supper and the announcement. Feeling up to a bit of Poppy-dodging?"

Severus groaned and wrenched his eyes away from the darkened window, now was not the time that he wished to face the angry matron, but it looked like he didn't have much choice in the matter. His elbow was caught in a firm grip by the Headmaster and he was tugged gently towards the door.

"Farewell for a time, Fawkes. Think you can watch my office for me without setting too many things on fire, this time?"

The fire bird chirruped happily and hopped onto Albus' desk, marching up and down like a sentinel. The last thing Severus saw before the office door closed was Fawkes with his head buried in the bag of Sherbet Lemons.

"You do realise that your phoenix is insane, don't you, Albus?" Severus asked casually as they walked along one of the many forgotten corridors leading towards the Great Hall. Albus was purposefully leading them through all the secret passageways of the castle – supposedly to avoid Poppy – but Severus had the sneaking suspicion that the old man was taking great pleasure in watching all the ancient cobwebs appear out of nowhere and attach themselves to Severus' robes.

"Ah! It has my leg!"

Albus cast a wandless _'Diffindo'_ without even so much as breaking stride and looked back to smile at the struggling Severus. Naturally, the Headmaster's robes were spotless. "You all right back there, dear boy?"

The inarticulate snarl he received in answer to that question only made him chuckle.

"There's nothing wrong with Fawkes as far as I can tell, Severus. Wherever did you get that idea?"

"Oh, I don't know," Severus grumbled, finally able to persuade the cobweb network that he really wasn't all that tasty with a well-aimed Blasting curse. Still picking bits of fluff off his robes, he stepped up to walk beside the Headmaster.

"Oh, I don't know," he repeated. "Maybe it was the stealing of the shoelaces from all of my boots, but then again, it could have been the obsessive lining up of all my socks, which – I may remind you – he refused to let me to touch until he was done! Or maybe it was because he's decided that his latest calling in life is to be my own, personal alarm clock... Of course, it could be to do with the most recent event of him stealing all the potions ingredients I need the most and leaving no hint as to where he has hidden them!" Severus snapped his mouth shut and glared at Albus, who was watching him with puzzled eyes.

"Severus, Fawkes has never even gone near your potions stores. Whoever has been stealing them is not him."

"Hmmph," Severus muttered, wondering who else could have been taking his potions ingredients without him realising. Besides, if he really thought about it, Fawkes had always returned anything he had purposefully 'misplaced' so he couldn't be responsible for the ingredients... After all, his shoelaces had turned up just a day later, all knotted together and wrapped around his armchair. At the time, Severus had decided he really hadn't wanted to know. "But you didn't deny his other crimes, I noticed!"

"I seem to have gone temporarily deaf and was henceforth unable to hear a word of what you just said, Severus. Ah, look, there's Argus and young Mr Weasley!"

Contemplating all forms of death and torture up to and including strangulation, Severus trailed after the cheerful Headmaster. Sometimes it really was a pity he liked the man so much...

oooOOOooo

Ron watched Snape and Dumbledore approach with barely concealed relief. True, Snape was less of a joy to observe coming towards you than the dotty Headmaster, but right now Ron would welcome just about anyone. (Provided that a certain someone didn't find out about the spoon situation and promptly disembowel him).

He was dying to go and find out what on earth Harry had meant by 'a second Snape' but ever since he had spilled water over Filch's boots, the man had had him scrubbing at these re-growing cobwebs for hours.

Seriously, the second he looked away to dunk the brush in the pail, the area he'd just cleaned would web over again! It was times like these when Ron thought Hogwarts would really be better off being a little less magical, if only to prevent him from coming out after dark, clutching a twenty pound sledgehammer and singing 'Heeeere's Ronnie!' as he went.

Ron shook his head and pretended not to notice the two Professors as they came closer. Maybe if they distracted Filch long enough, he'd be able to make a break for it. After all, imagining cheerfully demolishing walls by moonlight is not the picture of mental health, not even when you throw recalcitrant cobwebs and an argumentative arsehole into the mix...

"Ah, Argus, there you are! You simply must come and sample this particularly wonderful lemon tart they're serving tonight! The House Elves supposedly recreated it from an old Muggle recipe..." And, ignoring the man's loud and obvious protests, Dumbledore grabbed Filch by the arm and easily whisked the shorter man down the corridor and out of sight.

Ron was rather impressed by the fact that the Headmaster hadn't even needed to slow down to accomplish all of this.

Ron and Snape's eyes met in a heretofore impossible moment of agreement – yes, the Headmaster really was that crazy and, no, they hadn't been hallucinating. The moment passed and the universe righted itself, mainly propelled by the vicious sneer which had made its way onto Snape's face.

"Well, what are you waiting for, Weasley? Get a move on!"

Ron didn't need to be told twice. Especially not when they were serving lemon tart for pudding.

Thankfully it only took a short space of five minutes to locate and secure a seat beside Harry and Hermione at the dinner table – by which time Ron was both ravenous and exhausted, and couldn't care less about why Snape was glaring at Sinistra from the other side of the table, nor why Draco Malfoy was missing entirely despite having escaped from the ceiling a good half hour ago.

Nor indeed why Snape was casting the occasional nervous glance in the direction of a furious Madam Pomfrey...

Hermione and Harry were frantically trying to divert his attention to all of the above, but Ron really couldn't care less, especially when there was food involved... and that lemon tart really was as great as Dumbledore had made out!

"Ron!" Hermione hissed for what felt like the umpteenth time. "Will you at least _try_ and listen to what we're saying? This could be really important!" Surreptitiously, almost guiltily, she cast a glance towards the staff table – the fifth in the same number of minutes.

Normally Ron would have wondered what it was about Snape that she found so fascinating tonight but, right then, the only important thing in Ron's mind was how he was going to get a second helping of the delicious lemon tart... which was currently floating six feet above his head. Hermione – helpful girl that she was – had levitated it there once it had become clear that he really wasn't paying all that much attention to the conversation.

He tried again. "Hermione!" (True, whining wasn't always the best policy, but _sometimes_ Hermione gave into it). "Please give it back... I'm hungry..." (Puppy dog eyes shouldn't go amiss either). "If you let me have the tart, I _promise_ I'll concentrate." (On the tart...)

Hermione didn't look impressed.

This called for drastic measures. "Uh, if you give back the food I'll... I'll let you name every single one the little sprogs if we ever get married! Even if one of them ends up being known as Malibu Sprite Tequila."

Ron watched in triumph as the platter settled back down onto the table within easy reach. Hermione was staring at him as if he'd grown a second head and Harry was convulsing silently in laughter, but that was OK.

_Mmm, pie.._.

"Ron?" Hermione's voice was soft, worried.

"Hmm?" Ron turned towards her, much more willing to listen now that he had food and didn't feel like his hands were going to fall off from all the work he'd done.

"I... um... The thing is..."

Ron smirked._ Hermione, at a loss for words? This should be good.._.

Eventually, blushing bright red and staring at her lap, her plan for withholding food from Ron completely forgotten (much to Ron's delight), she mumbled, "The thing is, I'm not ever going to marry you Ron. We're just not the right couple material... Sorry."

Ron gasped and stared agape at Harry – who obliged him brilliantly by gasping and gaping back – before turning to Hermione and gaping at her instead as if she had just insisted that all books were the work of the devil and must be banned henceforth.

Affecting shocked astonishment, Ron leaned forward earnestly and said. "But Hermione, we were supposed to get married once Harry had saved the world and went off on more daredevil adventures, abandoning us back at home to deal with a pack of bushy-haired gingers!"

Hermione fidgeted. "No, Ron. And I honestly don't think that Harry will be going anywhere after Voldemort dies."

"Oh…" Ron sighed and pretended to be melancholy for a moment before suddenly brightening. "Okay. Know anyone else who I could have a pack of bushy-haired gingers with?"

He paused and waited patiently while Hermione banged her head against the table, satisfied that winding Hermione up was, as usual, highly amusing. She honestly didn't think he noticed anything around here... like the way that when Hermione wasn't glancing at Snape, Snape was glancing at Hermione... He still wasn't sure of what he thought about that. Best keep quiet about it just now though. Who knew what Harry might end up doing!

Eventually she raised her head and glared in his general direction, looking a little cross-eyed.

Harry patted her on the head. "There, there. I'll protect you from the big, red-haired meanie..." he consoled, which of course earned a second glare, this time pointed in his direction.

Hermione raised her eyes to the ceiling. "I honestly don't know why I put up with you two."

"Because we're two for the price of one?" Ron tried, happily finishing off the last of his pudding.

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "No. Because you're non-refundable." Her eyes flicked to the staff table again in exasperation, only this time they met and locked with a certain spoon-less Potions Master's... Blanching white, she leapt up, mumbled, "I have to go," and darted right out of the Great Hall."

Harry caught Ron's look and sighed. "We're going to have to watch those two."

Ron nodded gloomily. At least Hermione had fallen for a complete bastard they knew rather than one they didn't... Though when she did finally decide to tell him about it, he reserved the right to yell.

Just then a hush ran through the Hall as Dumbledore stood up to make an announcement.


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter Twenty**

* * *

Hermione sprinted through deserted corridors, a continuous loop of thought running through her head. _Oh no! Oh no! How could I have been so stupid?_ The instant her eyes had met Snape's, she had felt his thoughts brush gently against her mind, and – because she was frustrated with the boys – an image of the main reason for her anger had briefly slipped to the front...

For split second, the spoon had flashed before her eyes.

There was no way of knowing if Snape had seen it or not, but she was leaving nothing to chance. She _must_ get rid of the evidence! She had become too relaxed around the Professor recently; he would surely kill her for this or – even worse – never speak to her again.

Gasping as though she had just run a marathon, she burst into the boys' dorm and frantically rummaged through Harry's (thankfully) unlocked trunk until she found the box, sparing a second to be grateful that no one was there to watch that humiliating display.

Now, naturally neither she nor Snape would be able to open the box without Harry's help, but it was still incredibly dangerous to have it anywhere where it could incriminate them.

Hermione thought furiously. She could see the logic of her plan, but the boys would never agree. Therefore, she needed to get the spoon out of the box without ever letting them know...

Unfortunately, the only way to open the box was with Harry's magic.

A flash of inspiration came to her as she ran back down the boys' stairs. Counting her blessings that no one was back from dinner yet, she whispered the password to the Common Room wall and quickly hurried through the door that had appeared.

The room was fairly small, but it was clear it had been left over from the days when Hogwarts had entertained a larger population of students; it still contained several four poster beds and a functioning en-suite bathroom. Luckily, it was no longer covered in inch-thick dust – due to Harry's cleaning spell – and was perfect for housing a 'fugitive' who didn't wish to be found.

"Snayip! Snayip! I need your help!"

Snayip looked up from where he had been staring out at the darkened grounds and gracefully slid off the windowsill. "Hermione? Help with what?" he asked in confusion.

"This!" Hermione thrust the box into his waiting hands. "Please. Please see if you can open it..."

"Of course, of course, Hermione. One moment, if you will..."

_Well, at least he's more well trained than the REAL Snape_...

The golem shook the box a little and listened to the rattle within before slowly undoing the clasps holding it closed, magic sparking at his fingertips. To Hermione's relief, the box opened easily to reveal the spoon nestled within.

"Spoon!" Snayip's eyes sparkled with childish enthusiasm as he beheld the object in question, his movements immediately becoming more jerky and uncoordinated. Hermione had to hold back a sad sigh.

She'd noticed this before when Harry and she had been getting Snayip settled. To them, Snayip's mental age had aged and regressed seemingly without pattern... until they realised that it was the magic – the cause of this man's very existence – fluctuating within him. You were taught from a very early age at Hogwarts that things which were magically Transfigured or Conjured only remain permanent if the base magic within them was stable. It saddened her greatly to know that Snayip would eventually fade away; she already felt quite protective of him.

Snapping herself out of her reverie, she suddenly remembered that she was supposed to be right in the middle of a crisis.

"Thank you, Snayip. You're a star!" Snatching up both the spoon and the box, she kissed him on the cheek on and rushed out of the room, ignoring his disgruntled words of "Hermione! Really, now..." following her out.

_Right..._ she thought, hurrying along another one of the castle corridors. _Where should I hide this? Somewhere Snape would never even think to look. But where?_ The box was back in Harry's trunk and the spoon was safely tucked in the same pocket of her robes where it had been the first night she'd taken it, but now she was completely at a loss...

Glancing out of a window at the darkened grounds, she had another flash of sudden – albeit reluctant – brilliance: the Forbidden Forest._ Oh dear_.

It was dark. Very dark. And much colder than she remembered.

Pausing only to shiver and pull her robes more tightly around herself – all the while cursing whichever person thought it was a good idea to wear nothing except underwear underneath and call it 'uniform' – Hermione trudged deeper into the forest. Dead leaves clung to her feet as she walked, and hidden roots kept trying to trip her, but she didn't dare produce anything more than the feeblest Lumos. Who knew what might try to find her if she did?

She had already passed the clearing where she and Harry had tricked Umbridge to follow them to in fifth year, and was starting to wonder if going any further was really the best idea. Especially on an evening where the sun had set hours before.

But then, just as she was about to turn back, she stumbled upon another, smaller clearing.

Stumbling being the operative word. In fact, the 'stumbling' involved her ankle, a root, a steep bank, a large puddle and the loss of yet more of her dignity. In that particular order.

Holding back a snarl, Hermione grabbed a handful of her hair and wrung it dry. It wasn't her fault she'd fallen! It was dark! And the trees' contorted trunks seemed to be laughing at her. Well, maybe.

Standing up slowly and brushing herself off, Hermione looked about for a decent place to bury the spoon. After all, it was special, and deserved proper handling. Under a tree? No. Beside the puddle? Definitely not. In the middle of the clearing? Well, what had she got to lose?

Pulling the spoon from her pocket, she looked at it sadly in the meagre light of her Lumos. "I'm really, really sorry about this," she whispered consolingly before stopping abruptly as she realised what she was doing.

_Great. I have started conversing with a piece of cutlery. Even in the Wizarding world, this cannot be normal. Then again.._. Hermione eyed the spoon suspiciously._ This particular piece of cutlery does have a very paranoid owner_.

Hermione pointed her wand at the spoon. _Better to be safe than sorry_. "_Obliviate!_"

The spoon remained unchanged, and Hermione was left feeling rather silly. Especially as she was getting the distinct impression that if the spoon had indeed been sentient, it would currently be observing her with a 'Now, really!' expression. Possibly even raising an eyebrow like its owner would have, to complete the look.

Hermione paused. _A spoon with eyebrows? Oh deary, deary me_.

Hastily digging a hole to distract herself from her peculiar thoughts, she then pushed the spoon into the loamy ground and scooped the earth back over it. Standing up straight, she gazed solemnly down at the impromptu hiding place.

"I'm getting the feeling I should say something clever right about now." She paused. "But it's cold, creepy and I'm quite certain that there's something crawling up my leg which really shouldn't be. Add this to the fact that if I don't get a bath in the next half hour, I shall scream, you'll get the general gist of how I'm feeling right now. So; good riddance and stay there!" Having said this, she stomped off out of the clearing.

There was silence for a brief moment before Hermione stomped back into the clearing and exited it again in the opposite direction.

The trees behind her all looked at each other and shook their leaves in amusement. Humans!

oooOOOooo

Severus had been struggling to push his chair back ever since he had caught sight of the angry face of Poppy Pomfrey.

Unfortunately for him, it was now clear that the wily Headmaster had used his own variety of Sticking Charm to keep Severus in place for the entirety of the meal. Normally he wouldn't have minded as much – well, OK, he'd be furious – but right now he _really_ wanted to be anywhere but on the receiving end of one of the Matron's constant glares. Honestly, did the woman ever blink?

Thank Merlin that Albus had applied a Sticking Charm to her chair too...

For a short time, Hermione had been a thankful distraction, but she'd left suddenly before the meal was even over. Severus had a guilty suspicion that it was probably his own fault. After all, entering someone's mind without permission wasn't the politest thing to do. He was naturally curious by nature, and having the chance to find out her opinion of his despicable display in the Hospital Wing could only be a bonus.

OK, that was a pathetic excuse and he knew it. How in Merlin's name was he going to talk her into being his Apprentice now? He supposed he could always say the Headmaster had ordered her to, but that wouldn't be anywhere near as satisfying...

To distract himself, he glared at the oblivious Astronomy teacher one more time. Blasted Sinistra. She'd _promised_ she'd keep Draco within her sight at all times! And where was Draco now? Nowhere to be seen!

He made a quick mental note to organise something appropriately nasty to happen to her. Could he 'accidently' Polyjuice her into himself and leave her for Poppy to find? Hmm, choices, choices...

He was startled out of his thoughts as the doors to the Great Hall swung open and to reveal a good portion of the Order; the ones who had nothing to lose from revealing their identity, at least. Severus rolled his eyes as he realised that Albus had already started his speech about Hogwarts now being separate from the Ministry. So these were the 'bodyguards' that Albus had mentioned earlier? Wonderful. His day just kept getting better.

Why, oh why, did the werewolf have to be at Hogwarts again? He'd had enough difficulty trying to get rid of him the first time! Oh, and of course the wretched Potter boy would be looking delighted by the fact he was back, which naturally meant Hermione would be too...

Severus rolled his eyes at himself. _This_ was why he shouldn't bother trying to be nice to someone – it always ended up being far more complicated than necessary.

A movement from the Slytherin table caught his attention, and he looked over in time to see the predatory look which had appeared in Blaise Zabini's eyes as the boy looked at the Order members. Come to think of it, several of his snakes were wearing the same expression, including Pansy Parkinson and Cynthia Moon.

Something sinister was afoot.

Severus felt a shiver run down his spine and he locked eyes with Albus, making sure the Headmaster had noticed the same. He had. And suddenly Severus felt the Sticking Charm on his chair dissipate.

Standing quickly, he gave a nod of appreciation and exited via the side door. He had to find Draco. And soon. Merlin knew what was going to happen if the boy managed to get into his father's – and hence Voldemort's – clutches.

"Severus Snape! Get back here at once!"

_Shit_.

Severus skidded to a halt as he heard Poppy's voice echo in the corridor behind him. Obviously not even impending doom would remove the Headmaster's mischievous streak. At least he'd actually allowed Severus a head start before unleashing the beast!

Sprinting down several corridors, his feet moving as silently as he could manage, Severus picked a random abandoned classroom and made a dive for it, quickly warding the door behind him with a Notice Me Not spell. Only then did he allow himself to sag back against it, feeling drained from the day he'd had; he was unsure whether the exhaustion was partially to do with the earlier incident with Goyle's potion or simply because too much had gone on.

Turning back towards the door – to double-check the ward – he heard a soft sound echo behind him. Years as a spy prevented him from reacting, though it was a close thing. Nonchalantly, he took a step backwards – pretending he was still observing the door – then another, and another, and then...

"Got you!"

"Ahhh!"

"_Draco?_"

The blond Slytherin at least had the grace to look sheepish. "Err, good evening, Professor. Lovely weather we're having."

Severus closed his eyes and prayed for patience. Once a Malfoy heir, always a Malfoy heir. "What. Are. You. Doing. Here?"

The suave bravado fell away quickly, leaving a slightly panicked expression on the boy's face. "Professor, I have to talk to you..."

"Well, that is convenient, seeing as I most certainly have plenty to say to you. What have you got to say for–?" Severus trailed off as he finally noticed Draco's appearance. The back of his robe looked like it had been attacked by a rogue snowstorm. Completely distracted, Severus wrinkled his nose as he reached out and tugged at a small bit of the white stuff stuck to Draco's shoulder. "What in Merlin's name is this?"

Draco looked shifty. "Umm... It's, well... It's the ceiling."

Severus felt his mind go blank. "The ceiling?"

"Yes; the ceiling!" Draco snapped, temper fraying. "I broke it."

"...Indeed."

"It's perfectly obvious if you think about it!"

_Of course it would be. How silly of me_.

"I was stuck up there for _hours!_"

_And there was me hoping you'd stay up there until the Dark Lord was long dead and Potter was Minister for Magic. No, wait – scratch that last_. "Patience is a virtue, Draco."

"Patience? Pah! It's that blood-traitor _Weasley's_ fault!"

Before Draco could devolve into a fully fledged rant about Malfoy superiority, Severus fixed him with a stern glare. He had to listen to the Dark Lord spout Pureblood nonsense often enough; why should he put up with one of his own students blustering on? Besides, he'd had enough of the whining.

"That is enough, young man; you are already in plenty of trouble. I'm tempted to assign you detention cleaning the Hospital bed pans for your actions. They were hardly worthy of a Slytherin!"

Draco sneered. "And how would you confirm such a detention with the Matron when your interests clearly lie in avoiding her for as long as possible?"

_I cannot believe the insolence of this brat this evening!_ "Would you prefer me to send you outside the school grounds in order to collect potions ingredients for me?" he drawled menacingly.

Draco went pale. Well, pal_er_. "No, please don't, sir! My father..." The boy looked down and folded his arms sulkily. "My father wants to take me to join... you know... to help replace the ranks or something, but I don't want to!"

Oh dear, the whining was back. "And why would this be?"

Draco huffed and flopped down on a nearby desk. "They're creepy. And hang around in graveyards. _And_ make you do icky things. My father once said it took three whole hours to get the muck out of his hair. I can't afford to have things like that happen to me! I'm a natural blond!"

Severus resisted the urge to pinch himself and then tear his hair out. Did everything always come down to vanity with Malfoys? "Your decision to turn down the Death Eaters is entirely because you wish to retain a perfect coiffure? Nothing to do with thinking their values might be wrong?"

Draco made a face. "Well..." he said grudgingly – very, very grudgingly – "I suppose Mudbloods aren't all _that_ bad, and I don't suppose they deserve to be _completely_ dismembered just for being who they are..."

"I am _so_ glad you think so. Perhaps they should only be partially dismembered and let off with a smack on the wrist?"

"You're a real riot, you are."

"Perhaps you've forgotten that I myself am also a Death Eater."

"Oh, _that_." Draco leaned back, looking totally unconcerned. "But that's OK – you're not weird."

Severus closed his eyes and counted to ten._ Do not murder your godson. Do not murder your godson._ "Thank you so much. It's nice to know that after all my years of trying to instil some respect in you dunderheads, I have been finally classed as 'Not. Weird.'" _Disrespectful little– I've just spent the past few hours worrying about you and this is how you repay me?_ Still, he shouldn't have been surprised; this WAS Draco Malfoy.

"_Back_ to the matter at hand," Severus said, being sure to enforce his words with a further glare. "We still need to decide what you require me to do to haul you out of this little situation you have created."

Draco folded his arms and sulked some more. "It's not my fault," he mumbled sullenly.

Severus didn't say anything. He didn't need to – the raised eyebrow said it all.

"Oh, fine!" Draco finally exclaimed, waving his arms about in the most unusual fashion. "OK, I admit I must have brought some of this on myself, but isn't that enough for you? In case you hadn't realised, my father most probably wants me _dead_ by now! You're the only Death Eater I know who won't hand me over to _Him_ straight away – you helped Dorian Webster get out of the exact same situation I'm now in a couple of years back."

Severus froze. "And precisely _how_ did you come by that little snippet of information?"

Draco took a step back but managed to still look defiant. "He told me. And he said that you were the person to talk to if I wanted out."

Severus sighed. It seemed the boy was being genuine after all and, as amusing as winding the boy up was, he really did need to find a way around this situation. After all, if there were one less Death Eater in the world, it would mean one less follower for the Order to deal with.

"Very well..." he said slowly, drawing the moment out so he could watch Draco sag. "I shall help you. You are certainly too young to consider such a life changing course of action." Severus felt his own arm ache in sympathy. "However," he paused for effect, "you will owe me for this."

Draco nodded irritably. "Yes, yes, yes. I'd already worked that bit out – can we now go straight to the part where you actually help me?"

Severus slipped over to the dusty teacher's desk, sat down behind it, and laced his fingers together. "From what I see, you now have three options: one, we go to the Headmaster and get him to put you in hiding. Two, we send you to the Dark Lord with the intention of turning you into a spy."

Draco paled drastically at this point.

"I never said the options would be pleasant, Draco. I am merely giving you all the facts as they are. And number three: you contact your father with the information that Dumbledore is watching your every move, so will know the second you attempt to leave the castle. If you choose this last, you can tell him this is what prevented you from going to meet him tonight. For example; you might say the old man caught and detained you, and only released you after having sufficiently warned you of the futility of your actions. If you choose this option, we will have to construct further plans. Understood?"

Draco nodded sharply, still looking a bit green about the gills. "Understood, sir. May I have some time to think about it?"

Severus simply looked at him, carefully using Legilimency to sift through the boy's thoughts, thankfully finding no sign of Draco planning to inform the Dark Lord of Severus' supposed treachery. He only stopped when the boy in front of him started looking increasingly nervous.

"Only if you bear in mind that every minute you delay, you're adding to whatever unpleasant consequences might befall you."

Draco gulped, definitely green this time, and hurriedly turned to leave.

"_One_ moment... Mr Malfoy." Oh, bless pauses in sentence structure; it always made students look as if they were about to liquefy into a puddle of fearful goo. "I require you to make a Wizard's Oath for me. I wish for confirmation that you will relate _nothing_ of what you have encountered in this room to anyone, through any form of communication. This includes talking to yourself – you never know who may be listening." Severus had learnt that last through painful experience.

Draco looked a bit disgruntled, but complied easily enough, sneering over the last phrase as if to say, 'Like a Malfoy would _ever_ be caught talking to himself – it's just not the done thing!'

"And do remember, Draco," Severus called out once the boy had turned to leave for a second time, "that breaking a Wizard's Oath often results in you instantaneously becoming mute or extensively mutilated... it's never easy to tell which may strike though." He let a truly evil smirk spread across his face as he spoke.

The boy let out a most un-masculine squeak before dashing through the door, not even pausing to close it behind him.

Severus let the smirk grow more self-satisfied as he fiddled with an abandoned quill on the desk, not even noticing when his eyelids started to droop...

A few hours later he was jolted awake by the sound of someone creeping along the corridor outside. He looked up just in time to see a dark shape slip past the partially-open door of the classroom and was on his feet before he even had time to think about it. He knew who it was; only one person at Hogwarts had bright pink hair...

_What does Hermione Granger think she's doing, sneaking about the castle after curfew? I'll have to see about that!_

* * *

_A/N: I am so sorry this took so long - I hope the chapter makes up for the wait. Once again, thank you very, very much to my beta Spst for spotting the time vortex I managed to create! Happy (belated) New Year everyone!_


	21. Chapter 21

_A/N: First of all a huge thank you to Annie for not allowing me to turn Hermione into a wuss (even I can't justify that). And secondly - thank you so much to all of you who reviewed! You finally kick-started me into finishing this chapter at long last - you're all amazing! Hope you enjoy ;)_

* * *

**Chapter 21**

* * *

Severus didn't dare to breathe as he slipped into the corridor and lurked behind the pink-haired girl now barely five metres in front of him. Years of creeping into places he shouldn't have meant that Hermione didn't even notice his soft footsteps. He thought briefly of announcing himself and watching her jump, but then decided it would be much better if he discovered what mischief she was getting herself into first.

His eyes narrowed as they tracked her progress. What could she want with the Library at ten to midnight?

oooOOOooo

After she had found the (right) way back to the Castle, Hermione had indulged herself in a hot bath, allowing the warm water soothe away her earlier stress. She should have known the tranquillity wouldn't last; something which was confirmed as the boys intercepted her at the bottom of her dormitory staircase.

They stood in her path, arms folded and looking so much like an investigation squad that Hermione felt a twinge of guilt for no reason. Well... maybe there _was_ a reason.

Before she could get a word in edgeways, Harry grabbed her left arm, Ron grabbed her right, and she found herself frogmarched up to the boys' dormitory; the door locking itself behind them. Hermione did NOT want to know what the people in the Common Room were thinking right now. By tomorrow there would probably be a story about her and her fetish for chains floating around the school.

Not something she was particularly inclined to deal with on top of everything else.

"Alright," said Harry, letting go and folding his arms. "What did you do with it?"

"What did I do with what?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Before dinner was over, I was busy taking food to a certain someone when I made a rather important discovery. Now, this 'certain someone' looks like another certain someone, but who isn't another certain someone. The certain someone then cheerfully told me he opened a certain thing and gave you another certain thing from it. Seeing as this certain someone has no reason to lie and the certain thing is currently lacking another certain thing, I'd like to know what you did with the other certain thing. Please."

Hermione and Ron shot a glance at each other and then slowly cocked their heads at Harry; Hermione wondering how he'd managed to say all of that in one breath, and Ron wondering what on earth Harry had meant anyway.

Harry – realising he had just lost his only ally to confusion – sighed and studied the ceiling for inspiration. "Hermione, _please_. Where's the spoon? Because if Snape–"

Hermione held up her hand. "Alright, don't panic. I know what I'm doing, I promise."

"Says the person who turned herself into Catwoman for a day."

"I was twelve! You're going to hold that against me forever, aren't you?"

Ron bumped her shoulder. "'Course; it remains the only time you well and truly screwed up."

Hermione eyed him coldly. "Not helping, Ron. Not one bit. Now," she said, returning her attention to Harry, "give me three good reasons why I should tell you where the spoon is when I know it's already in a safe... ish... place."

Harry held his hand up with a dramatic flourish. "One; if we keep it close by, we can react quicker if Snape catches on. Two... err," he trailed off helplessly.

"If we hang onto it, we can take it away at the end of the year and Snape will never know it's us," Ron supplied helpfully.

Harry snapped his fingers. "Brilliant, Ron! Exactly. And three; if we find a way to safely get rid of the evidence, it would be a good idea to keep it close, so we could do it straight away."

Hermione looked at Harry, then, Ron, then back again, and experienced a sinking sensation which assured her she would not win. She could almost hear how the argument would go from now on; she would bring up new, valid points, and the boys would continue to repeat what they had decided was right until she was ready to curl up in a ball and scream. Still, she had to try...

"Snape tried to use Legilimency on me at dinner," she admitted, already knowing this was a pretty feeble last attempt. "He might have seen something."

Harry frowned. "How long did he have to look around?"

"Only for about a second, but–"

"Then that's settled!" Harry exclaimed, slapping a bedpost in delight. He paused to wince and rub his smarting hand before continuing, "You need at least three seconds to gain proper purchase in someone else's mind. Now, can we have the spoon?" He gave her a winning smile.

Hermione rubbed her forehead wearily. "Tomorrow. It's safe enough for now."

The boys looked crestfallen for a moment but they quickly rallied. "If we haven't got anything better to do, then let's introduce Ron to Snayip!" Harry called, abruptly striding out of the now-unlocked door, Ron following close behind.

Both of them ignored Hermione's incensed cry of "Homework!" She stared after them. "And they say I have mood swings," she muttered quietly before following with resignation.

oooOOOooo

Several hours later, Hermione was wearily checking the clock for what felt like the hundredth time; in fact, it probably was.

Now it was half past eleven, and she was rapidly approaching the moment when she would start to tear her new hair out in lovely, pink chunks. What had essentially been variations on exactly the same conversation had been going the last three hours. More importantly, it had been going on while she had been trying to revise. It was very distracting and, what was even worse, it looked like it was about to start All. Over. Again.

"This is just too weird." Ron leaned forward so he could stare all the better at Snayip. "Is it really, really real?" he stage whispered, poking Snayip three times in an attempt to answer his own question.

Snayip simply raised an eyebrow. "Yes. It. Is," he replied, poking Ron back in time to his words.

Ron didn't seem fazed in the slightest... which was possibly a side effect of having five older brothers. "_Wicked!_" He paused and eyed Snayip speculatively. "Say, do you think he has any idea how to play wizard chess?" he asked over his shoulder to Harry (who had long since given up even pretending to answer).

Both Harry and Hermione groaned when Snayip, who seemed completely unaware of what he was entering into, innocently asked, "Chess?"

Again.

The problem with having a friend who constantly fluctuated between being old and young also meant several memory lapses... which Ron was conveniently using to his own advantage by explaining the rules of Wizarding Chess over and over and over again.

(Other topics had included Quidditch, Quidditch, and the Chudley Cannons. Even Harry was starting to look like he was playing '100 ways to strangle Ron' in his head.)

Only Arnold – finally back to his original orange – didn't seem to mind his current situation. As far as the foam was concerned, his two favourite humans were getting along splendidly and any reason for that was a valid one.

Hermione massaged her temples with her fingertips, listening carefully to see if the Gryffindor stragglers had finally made it up to bed... Hearing silence, she wasted no time in making a break for the door. "I'm going to the Library. 'Night, guys. Don't wait up for me."

Harry's slightly desperate voice floated after her. "Wait! Hermione, you can't leave me here alone with..."

The portrait of the Fat Lady snapped shut behind a smirking Hermione. Being trapped in a room with a chess maniac and a man with severe attitude swings was not something she envied Harry for even a little bit.

Ten minutes later, she was sneaking along the last dark corridor leading to the Library, revelling in the complete silence around her. She sincerely hoped that she wouldn't meet anyone along the way – not only because it would be difficult for her to explain her presence without receiving a punishment – but also because she was still jittery from the 'incident' at supper. She'd be liable to jump a mile if, say, Professor Snape turned up.

Giving a last, wary glance around outside the huge, oak door, she slipped inside and focused her mind on what she was there for. She was hoping there would be something which might help her find a way to stop Snayip's deterioration. The last thing she wanted was to watch him die. And one thing was for certain; if it came to that, Harry was bound to take it harder than she would. _Hmm... Maybe I should also look up therapy techniques for self-harmers while I'm at it. I know he said not to worry, but I can't HELP it. He's my friend and I can't just stand by and do NOTHING_.

She was so lost in thought that she didn't even notice one of the many shadows in the corridor had slipped in through the partially open door behind her.

A distant clock began to strike the hour as she efficiently busied herself with picking out and flicking through a number of books she hoped would contain relevant information on both topics. Ten minutes later, and still not feeling a great deal more knowledgeable, her ears finally picked up a faint whisper of fabric shifting close by.

Stilling briefly, she pretended to busy herself with a book, while from the corner of her eye she glimpsed the edge of a cloak whipping out of sight at the end of her aisle.

Her heart beat a little faster as the chilling idea that she was about to be kidnapped flicked across her mind.

Slowly, she slipped her wand into her hand, summoning all of her Gryffindor courage as she crept towards the corner. _I'm not afraid. I'm NOT._ If she could take them by surprise, then surely she would have the upper hand?

Taking a deep breath, she stepped out from behind the shelves and started to incant...

Straight at Severus Snape's prominent nose.

Oops.

"Miss Granger!"

The words echoed through the Library like a whip crack and she swiftly snapped her mouth shut before she could do any more damage. She'd already attacked this particular teacher once before – she had no desire to do it again.

She had meant to ask, 'What are you doing here, Professor?' but the words "Are you _spying_ on me?" seemed to slip from her mouth, regardless. Oh well, she was probably going to get detention anyway, so she might as well avoid saying anything pointlessly obvious.

"Miss Granger" – this time the voice sounded distinctly uncomfortable – "if you have quite finished with your inanities of the evening, would you be kind enough to _point your wand somewhere other than my face?_"

"Oh!" Hermione squeaked and hurriedly went to tuck her wand back into her sleeve.

Not quickly enough, it seemed. She heard him growl under his breath and mutter, "Oh, for Merlin's sake!" as he grabbed her hand and forced it away from his body.

They both froze, their gaze riveted upon where their skin touched. A second later, they both snatched their hands away and started studying the nearest bookshelves with the utmost concentration.

"A-hem," Hermione cleared her throat quietly as the silence became painful. "I really am sorry, Professor. I thought... well, I did think I was about to be attacked and so I..."

The man cut off her attempts at a delicate apology with a sharp motion of his hand. "Drawing your wand on a Professor of this school is most certainly _not_ the way a model student should behave! Though I suppose you are not entirely to blame for the situation." His face twisted slowly into a smirk. "Though why a _brave_ Gryffindor such as yourself should be startled by things going bump in the night, I have no idea."

"Oh, hush!" Hermione glared up at him crossly, her irritation at having been so thoroughly 'startled' for nothing winning over her desire to apologise. "If you hadn't been sneaking around here like a vampire-bat, I wouldn't have been so shaken!"

The smirk became a sneer. "And some would say that you should be prepared for any eventuality – especially seeing as you're a member of the wondrous '_Golden Trio'_."

Hermione closed her eyes and sighed, she turned away and carefully began to set the books back on their respective shelves. It was clear she wasn't going to get anything done tonight. "I don't want to fight," she said quietly, her back now turned to him. "Why don't you just give me a detention for being out after hours, send me back to the dormitory and pretend that none of this happened?"

"_None_ of this, Miss Granger?" Snape's voice now sounded sharp and strangely brittle.

"Well, yes." Hermione turned back to him, and frowned at the face that was now deeply enshrouded in shadow. _How does he even do that?_ "I'm too tired for an argument to turn out any other way than badly at the moment... Tell you what, why don't we pick this up tomorrow morning?" She almost winced as she realised how that might have sounded...

Snape's features relaxed slightly and she breathed a silent sigh of relief. "I might be tempted to waive that necessity, if you were to give me your word you that you will not broadcast what my... disposition... was like this afternoon to the rest of the school. That is, unless you have already," he continued in a faintly accusing tone.

"Of course not." Hermione slid the last book into its place with a satisfying thunk, and turned to face Snape... Severus... Snape with a frown. This was beginning to get confusing. Beginning – ha. "I'd like to think you have more faith in me than that, Professor. Now, just to be clear," she turned to him, her hands settled on her hips, "are you going to give me detention?"

"No."

"Take points?"

"No."

"Ridicule me in any way, shape or form?"

"Do not tempt me."

Hermione smiled. "All right, then. I won't. Is there anything you _are_ going to do?"

"Certainly. I believe I was going to offer you an apprenticeship in Potions."

Hermione could not have been more surprised if he had hit her over the head with a library book; it took a supreme effort of will not to sit down abruptly, which was good because she would have ended up on the floor.

Strangely, Snape seemed just as shocked as she.

"An... an apprenticeship... with you?" Hermione repeated slowly. Some small part of her started squealing and jumping up and down in excitement, but she easily quelled it, even if this opportunity was beyond her wildest dreams. Being apprenticed to someone before you'd even left school was an almost solid guarantee of a scholarship to a higher education institute of your choice, especially if it was in the difficult field of Potions. This was brilliant! "Oh, Professor, I'd love to!"

Snape smirked, all earlier confusion dissipating. "I thought you might say that. Come with me; I shall show you what is required of you. _Then_ you can decide upon whether to accept or not."

"Where are we going?" she couldn't help asking as she hurried to keep up with his long stride. "It's past midnight!"

"Your ability for stating the obvious appears to be improving."

Hermione resisted the urge to swat him like she would have done with the boys. "I _meant_, isn't Dumbledore – or someone – not going to be impressed with you dragging me God knows where in the middle of the night?"

Snape raised an eyebrow at her, even as he steered her down another long corridor Hermione had never seen before. It had a lot of cobwebs. "That would be an excellent point were it not for the fact that most Astronomy lessons often go on until two in the morning. All the Professors are still considered to be 'on duty' until at least that time of night, which, by default, also means that their offices and classrooms are still accessible until that time."

"Well," Hermione said, making a face, "it seems you get a pretty poor deal for teaching here."

Snape gave her a somewhat warmer glance. "Miss Granger, you have no idea. In fact, I'm sure you can now guess what the majority of my conversations with the Headmaster comprise of."

"Complaining about the practical jokes, and the poor working hours, I bet," Hermione said as she ticked them off her fingers. "I suppose the colour of his robes have come up a time or two as well?"

The man smirked. "Indeed. Though that is more Minerva's area than mine."

Hermione smiled slightly as a memory of the brusque fondness the Head of Gryffindor always treated the Headmaster with came to mind. "Do you think they're secretly married and are taking bets on how long it'll take all of us to figure it out?" she asked, mock-innocently.

The Professor almost missed a step and turned to stare at her incredulously. "I cannot believe I am having this conversation with you." He huffed and stalked away again when it became apparent when all Hermione was going to do was smile sweetly at him.

They passed both the Potions classroom and his office on their way and just as Hermione was ready to ask where they were going again, a small, wooden door sprung open at a wave of the Professor's hand.

"My own private laboratory," Snape stated, gesturing her in with a mock-flourish.

"Your what?" Hermione squeaked in surprise as she stepped in... only to stop abruptly and stare. It was difficult to know where to look first.

Hundreds of pots, cauldrons, ladles, ingredients and weird gadgets hung from, adorned and rested on every available surface from floor to ceiling. Everything was labelled; everything was in its rightful place, and everything was absolutely sparkling clean. Silver, gold, green and dun winked at her from all around, and she had to actually shake herself out of the whimsical thought that she'd just stepped into Aladdin's cave, because _really_, this was _Professor Snape's_ laboratory. And the Professor would most certainly _not_ appreciate being compared to a man who wore baggy trousers and went around muttering to a lamp all day.

Still, she couldn't help gushing a bit. This room was a potion-maker's dream.

"Oh, this is so _brilliant_, Professor! All the different _colours!_ I didn't know you had a private laboratory, let alone that it was so complete! If this were mine, I wouldn't bother to come out again no matter what anyone said – I'd probably just bar the door. I don't know how you can bear to leave this behind in order to teach us every day. And was that wandless magic I saw you do? I mean, the door just opened when you waved at it, so it was, wasn't it? I thought that was really advanced and that only the strongest wizards could accomplish it! But, oh _look_–"

"Miss Granger," Snape growled, rubbing his temples slightly – he seemed to be doing that a lot lately – "May I remind you that I do actually work here on a regular basis and therefore do not need a detailed description of the contents of my own room?"

Hermione's shoulders drooped. "Oh. Oh, yes, I suppose that would make sense." Pause. "But just _look_ at all the variety you've got here; I swear that ladle's made of basalt! And there's _so much_–"

Snape let out a snort that seemed strangely caught between a laugh and a growl, and Hermione firmly closed her mouth, feeling guilty. Wasn't her behaviour proof why he shouldn't take her on as an apprentice? She glanced at him with uncertainty, but he merely waved a hand as if to dismiss her outburst.

"Go on. Get the enthusiasm out of your system. Come tomorrow I will expect you to behave competently, but I suppose I could make an exception tonight."

This time Hermione couldn't – quite – suppress her squeal of delight. "Oh, really? Thank you!" She hurried over to the shelves of equipment and began to memorise everything she laid eyes on. "And to think nobody else knows all of this exists," she whispered reverently when she tore her eyes away to glance back. She was just in time to see Snape hide his smile behind a scowl, and her stomach gave the most disconcerting flip.

"I think you may discover the Weasley twins can be added to that list, despite the fact they attempted to explain they had no idea precisely why they were in here. Or, indeed, how they got in, in the first place."

Hermione shook her head in exasperation. Those two boys could get into anything as long as it seemed mysterious enough. "So what does it all do? I'm not sure I've seen even half of these things before."

Snape stepped up beside her and surveyed everything himself. "You would not have. Most of this collection is designed specifically with Potions Masters in mind."

"And you're letting me use this? Are you out of your mind?"

Snape glared a little but there wasn't any real heat to it. The quirking at the corners of his lips gave him away. "My mental state is not up for discussion."

"Oh, yes." Hermione nodded emphatically. "I remember now. We decided you'd already lost it after the Dumbledore bashing incident." Smirking, Hermione turned away from the spluttering Potions Master and wandered along the shelves.

"Miss Granger!" the man finally managed to get out. "May I remind you that the only reason you are in this room at all is by my request?"

Playing along, Hermione tapped her finger mock-thoughtfully against her cheek as she examined a spiralling, silver-hued instrument. "You could... but I could always have the boys figure out your password and sneak in anyway."

Snape was suddenly very close, very angry and very looming. "You wouldn't dare."

Hermione glanced up at his outraged face and chuckled, even as uncertainty made her fingers tighten in her pockets. She couldn't believe the audacity she had around the man these days! "You're right, I wouldn't. But based on the very premise that you've asked me down here suggests that you need help with something." She smiled sweetly and watched Snape twitch with outrage. "And to my mind, that means that unless you're very angry, you won't waste this opportunity by sending me away on a whim."

The glare on the man's face intensified. "You would do well not to test me any further."

_Just because he let you wind him up earlier today, doesn't mean he's going to let you do it indefinitely._ Hermione sighed in faint disappointment. Maybe Snape hadn't warmed to her as much as she'd thought. Madam Pomfrey was probably imagining things. _All right, one last try and then I'll give in_. She let her eyes go very wide and innocent. "Oh, but, Professor!" she said in her best 'I'm just a sweet little Gryffindor and you wouldn't want to hurt me, would you?' voice. "_Please_ don't send me away. I was only joking and I really, _really_ want to work with you. Please forgive me." She wondered if the slightly trembling lip was too much... but then decided she might as well go all out.

Snape's eyes widened with shock. "I... do not trouble yourself, Miss Granger," he said, stumbling over the words in his haste to get them out.

Hermione sniffed a little. "Being an apprentice is what I've dreamed about and I'd absolutely _hate_ to think I'd spoiled it with a few hasty words." Even she was impressed with how she had managed to make her eyes water.

Snape fidgeted: shuffling his feet and being careful to look anywhere but at her. "Err, there, there." He patted her awkwardly on the shoulder while examining a spot on the ceiling. "You haven't spoiled it, you are going to be an apprentice, and I'm not going to throw you out, so would you _please_ stop sniffing like that?"

_And round two goes to the Gryffindor_. "All right!" she exclaimed, smiling broadly, and abruptly snapping back to her previous attitude. "Now, this thing here – I've heard it's used to stabilise potions while they're still in the experimental stages. Dead useful – as Ron would say – don't you think, Professor?" she chirped at him, pointing at the silver object she had been examining before, as if nothing had happened.

Snape stared at her, his mouth hanging open a little, as if he could not quite believe what he was seeing. Slowly, his face began to darken. "Miss Granger," he purred dangerously, interrupting her quiet humming to herself.

"Yes, Professor?"

"Am I to understand that you have just spent the last few minutes deliberately manipulating me into believing you were in a delicate emotional state, while in reality you were nothing of the sort?" That glare looked strong enough to warp metal.

"Do you know...? That sounds exactly right, Professor." Hermione smiled up at him, and tried to understand why her common sense seemed to embark on a package tour around Australia whenever she was around this man.

Cocking her head to one side, she observed his reaction. He really did go quite an interesting colour when he was seething. "There, there," she said as she patted him gently on the shoulder. "I'm sure you'll get used to it eventually. After all, most apprenticeships only last for about five years."

She was three corridors away and already sprinting before he recovered from his shock enough to let out a shout of indignation.

oooOOOooo

After a good ten minutes of searching, Severus found her sitting back in the Library.

"I would have thought that you had enough sense to be well hidden in your Common Room by now," he snarled, giving her Glare Factor Five.

She looked up and smiled – why in Merlin's name was she always smiling around him? – as she closed the heavy book in front of her. "Well, it occurred to me that hiding away and giving you the chance to come up with an appropriate revenge probably wasn't the best idea, especially seeing as I'm going to be working with you from now on."

"Indeed." Severus slid into the seat across from her, feeling decidedly... not angry... though for the life of him he couldn't think why. She had tricked him after all. "And what makes you think you still will be after that little... display?"

Hermione cocked her head to the side in a way that made her really quite... _She is NOT in any way adorable_, Severus told himself firmly. _Not in the least!_ "Well, so far you've neither given me a detention, nor taken a ridiculous amount of points from Gryffindor." Hermione paused.

Severus didn't fill the silence.

"So... I still have the apprenticeship?" she asked, her face lighting up with hope.

Severus shifted and grumbled under his breath, eventually muttering something which sounded like, "I suppose so, but Merlin knows why," before subsiding into sulking. Only a little though.

Hermione, on the other hand, was positively glowing. "Oh, wonderful! I suppose you'll want me to do things like stock up the Infirmary, take inventory and prepare antidotes for lessons. Oh, and to organise things!"

_How does she manage to make 'organising' sound like it is the most thrilling job out of them all?_ Severus wondered briefly before directing his attention back to the witch tapping idly on the heavy tome in front of her. "I've been reading up on some of the things I'll need to do, but I was interested to know if there was anything I might have missed." She eyed him expectantly, studiously inking her quill and pulling a suspiciously long list towards her. It was somewhat disturbing that she didn't even have to look down once.

Her stared at her, feeling the weight of an incredibly weird day catch up with him. Since when had _Hermione Granger_ – the girl whom he had made burst into tears in her fourth year – been so comfortable in his presence? He shook his head and sighed wearily. Maybe after he went to bed the world would right itself? "Essentially, yes. You will also be brewing counter-potions to brews the younger students will be working on in class. These will need to be accurate, as it is imperative their effects are immediate."

Hermione nodded, hastily scribbling something on the parchment. "Of course, just give me your syllabus for the next two weeks and I'll read up on everything."

Looking at the cheerful, innocent and above all _expectant_ expression of Hermione's face caused Severus to sigh and shake his head. "You irritate me, Miss Granger."

"Why?" A frown appeared, and there looked to be a storm brewing behind those brown eyes. Ah, now he knew what Mr Weasley had meant a few days ago when he had been muttering about 'a pink thundercloud'.

"Because you retain a most Gryffindor tendency to remain un-squelched." Severus scowled as if this were considered a mortal sin. Unfortunately, all it prompted Hermione to do was giggle.

"And people say you don't have a sense of humour," she exclaimed, rolling her eyes and completely ignoring the mortified expression on Severus' face. "Well, I'm for bed. I'll see you tomorrow to finish going over what else is I need know, shall I? Goodnight, then."

"Goodnight," Severus replied blankly, still trying to work out how he'd ended up in this position. He almost didn't see her pause beside his chair.

"Oh, and Professor?"

"Hmm? Yes, Miss Granger?" He raised an eyebrow, trying to prove that he _was_ still the feared Potions Master of the dungeons. Hermione didn't seem to notice; she was smiling again. Only a little, but it was still a dratted smile.

"I am glad you weren't hurt in the accident today." Shifting her many books into a more comfortable position in her arms, she reached down and gave his hand a gentle pat. "Potions just wouldn't be the same without you." And then she walked off, completely unaware of the bombshell she had just dropped on the man sitting at the table.

Severus sat for several minutes, staring at his hand as though he had only just discovered that it was attached to his arm. Then, very slowly, he groaned and let his head drop down loudly upon the Library table as the realisation finally hit him. How, oh how, had he managed to fall so completely for a pink-haired, _obnoxious_ bookworm? Who had a nice smile... and was glad he hadn't been hurt... and liked to spend time with him... and who was looking forward to spending more time with him.

"That is _not_ helping," he snarled at the varnished surface before him. "She's your student for Merlin's sake." His reflection didn't seem to have any more ideas on how to resolve the situation than he did.

Two minutes later, his left arm started to burn.


	22. Chapter 22

_A/N: A big thank you to Annie for her patient beta-ing and pointing out of plot holes! Hope you enjoy and thank to everyone who reviewed last time_.

**Chapter Twenty Two**

The first streaks of light were just beginning to creep across the sky when the shivering figure stumbled into a darkened clearing in the Forbidden Forest.

Coughing slightly, Severus sank to the ground and rested for a moment. He was close enough to Hogwarts not to worry about the creatures of the Forest bothering him, and far enough away to be able to re-group his thoughts in peace.

There were times – strange as it seemed – when he forgot why he hated the Dark Lord as much as he did. And then there were times like these when he remembered all too clearly.

"_What is it that you've learned? Tell me!_"

"_My Lord, I do not– Gaaah!_"

Severus closed his eyes in an attempt to shut out the memory, even as his own screams continued to echo in his ears. The Dark Lord had wanted to know... something. He had been convinced that Severus had learnt something he shouldn't have about His Future Plans (which might even be true) and had proceeded to try and torture the truth out of Severus. Repeatedly.

"_Attempting to bite through your own hand will make no difference in the end, Severus. You WILL tell me!"_

"_M-my L-lord. I know... I know nothing..._"

"_Lies! Crucio!_"

Severus winced again at the memory and stared down at the crescent-shaped bite mark on his right hand. He attempted to flex the appendage, only to automatically pull it back against his chest as it throbbed dully.

He stifled a mirthless laugh. After all, what the Dark Lord wants, the Dark Lord gets, and after what felt like hours he had finally decided that Severus was telling the truth...

_...Harsh, bony fingers gripped his twitching face and tilted his head up so that those demonic eyes could stare into his_.

"_So you truly know nothing," a mocking voice crooned. The fingers tightened, causing him to cry out against his will. "Make sure it stays that way. Now, get out of my sight, you pitiful wretch_."

Severus shivered as he finally succeeded in shutting away the unwanted memories. One thing was clear; the Dark Lord had something planned.

He sighed quietly and set his head down on his knees as he drew the last of his tattered composure around him. He had to warn Albus; Severus would have already been dead if the Dark Lord had believed him to be a traitor, which meant whatever had been planned was something so big that not even trusted servants could know about it.

Something that might even tip the balance of the war in the Dark Lord's favour.

Groaning softly and staggering a little, Severus climbed to his feet, wishing he had the option of Apparating to somewhere sensible like The Three Broomsticks after a hard day's work, instead of the middle of frigging nowhere; but people might start getting suspicious of the ripped robes and haunted demeanour. So, it was with a feeling of intense gratitude when he recognised the clearing; it was only a short distance from the beginning of the Hogwarts' wards, which extended a fair distance into the forest. He was in for a long walk, but at least he would be reasonably protected. His whole body aching dully, he forced himself to hobble towards the castle... only to have every muscle freeze in disbelief.

Blinking several times, Severus used legs as wobbly as a newborn colt's to carry him over to the _thing_ in the centre of the clearing. He stopped and squinted at it in the same fashion a drunk might try to scrutinise the two identical barmen who were serving him. Then, tentatively, he reached out a finger and prodded _it_.

_It_ made a soft pinging noise.

He whimpered softly. It wasn't fair. It really, really wasn't.

The spoon tree sparkled cheerfully back in the moonlight, looking completely and irrefutably solid.

Severus slowly backed away. _This is not happening_. The tree twinkled brighter, and Severus abruptly decided that backing away quickly was a much better idea._ This is NOT happening... _His legs recovered most remarkably and he ran. _YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO GO CRAZY!_

Later that morning, just before the first rays of dawn broached the horizon, Albus stopped next to the now-sleeping Potion Master's bed, completely baffled at the unexpected turn of events. After a long, careful discussion about the possible implications of Voldemort's torture session, Severus had blinked once and stared at the opposite wall.

He then turned back to Albus and said – completely rationally – "It was so shiny, Albus. So, so shiny..." Albus had, quite sensibly in his opinion, immediately yelled for Poppy, who had bustled in and sedated her puzzled patient.

Albus frowned down at the sleeping man. "Shiny, Severus? I know things are difficult now, but I do hope you're going to be all right."

oooOOOooo

Around the same time, in a different part of the castle, three figures were sneaking back in through the large, double doors. If you listened really closely, you could hear their incredulous whispers echoing slightly in the empty hall...

"A tree! I can't believe it turned into an actual tree!"

"And _I_ can't believe you considered the Forbidden Forest to be a safe place!"

"Oh, shut up, Harry!"

A pause, then a muttered, "I can't believe a man who was barely a day old beat me at chess..."

And the Entrance Hall was filled with laughter.

oooOOOooo

Unfortunately, two weeks later, it was becoming a lot less funny.

"Do you have _any_ idea how I could make Ron shut up about the fact that someone... err... younger beat him at chess?" Hermione asked as she carefully stirred the latest counter-potion, an exasperated note colouring her tone.

Snape didn't even bother to look up from the ingredients he was slicing. "Nitro-glycerine applied directly to the tongue."

"_What?_" she spluttered back, barely managing to keep the large ladle upright, let alone carry on stirring.

Snape raised an eyebrow and finally glanced up from the chopping board. "You asked my opinion; I merely supplied the first impression that came to mind." There seemed to be something vaguely mischievous about the shape of his mouth. Hermione tried to ignore the large bags under his eyes; he'd already made it clear they were not a topic up for discussion.

She pursed her lips and gave up on even pretending to stir the gelatinous mass in front of her. "Oh, really? Tell me, do you frequently imagine the many and diverse ways you can kill off my friends?"

Mischief still evident in his expression, Snape reached over, took the ladle from her hands, and forced the sluggish liquid back into a centrifuge. "You are supposed to be stirring this constantly, not stopping for a chat halfway through."

Hermione re-applied herself to the task. "I notice you still haven't answered my question."

"Miss Granger, surely you can guess the answer to that?"

Hermione pretended to curse him under her breath and went back to battling the potion. Banter like this had become more and more frequent over the past couple of weeks; she had come to expect and even rely upon it.

She'd had doubts on the first morning of her apprenticeship about how well they were going to get along when he was once again being cold and distant with her. However, later on, he'd given a briefly muttered explanation about having to escape Madam Pomfrey for the second time in two days and that the matron had been far from amused. Hermione had been able to guess the rest by the way he'd kept surreptitiously rubbing his left arm.

A hand touched her wrist, effectively pulling her out of her thoughts. The hand in question drew away quickly as if it was guilty of an unnamed crime. Occasional touching between Master and Apprentice was to be expected as shouts of warning could not always be heard over the bubble and hiss of a cauldron, but she had never anticipated that he'd constantly be so... gentle... with her.

Taking note of the wave of his hand, she immediately stepped to her left and allowed him to tip his well-prepared ingredients into the cauldron. "It doesn't matter anyway; I refuse to allow you to do anything of the sort."

Another arched brow. "Indeed, Miss Granger?" Despite his nonchalant answer, she could tell his mind was already furiously trying to work out what she was talking about. It was fun to catch him out; during potion-making was one of the few times he was distracted enough for her to manage it.

Completely against her will, she felt her face stretch into a smirk she knew she'd learnt straight from the master. "_I_'ve put up with those two long enough – _I_ get first dibs on what dreadful torments they shall suffer."

The light of understanding dawned across his face and he quickly turned away, but not before she heard his faint snort of amusement. _Result!_

Of course, it had to be just at that moment that her ladle abruptly refused to continue stirring, savagely yanking her arm in the process as the brew appeared to change from liquid to solid in the blink of an eye. "Uh, ah... Professor?"

"Yes?"

"Is it supposed to do that?"

Snape was back at her side in an instant, the same hand grabbing hold of her wrist and pulling her away from the boiling hot substance. "No..."

Cautiously, they both leant closer and peered into the depths, brows wrinkled in identical confusion.

Another edgy moment later, Snape pulled out his wand and Banished the flames, still tensed as if expecting an explosion. Nothing happened.

Unless you count the potion letting out a loud _'gloop'_ as it settled, of course.

"It... appears to be stable." Snape took three careful steps closer, before glancing back at her and glaring. "Why is it that you always manage to _'modify_' certain potions while, under normal circumstances, it is impossible to do so?"

Hermione folded her arms and glared back – she refused to think she was pouting – trying to think of a way to prevent him from losing his temper with her. "It really was your fault too, or had you forgotten? Besides, maybe now we'll be able to have matching hair."

Her words had the predictable effect; Snape leapt away from the cauldron like a scalded cat. He seemed to realise his mistake almost immediately, yet when he turned back to her – expression thunderous – she had already ducked behind a shelf at the opposite end of the room. Maybe teasing the man hadn't been the best idea to try and prevent him from getting angry.

"Miss Granger," came the dangerous purr.

"Yes, Professor?" Hermione asked as cheerfully as she could while crouched behind a vat of Murtlap essence. Her dignity tried to quietly scold her that she shouldn't be behaving like this... but she had become very used to ignoring it these past few weeks. Having a Slytherin come up to her last week and ask if she preferred to use chains or ropes had been one of the most humiliating experiences she had ever encountered. (She knew it had been a bad idea to let Harry and Ron drag her away to discuss the spoon business). Anyway, hiding behind a keg of antiseptic just didn't quite match up to it.

"I would appreciate it if you would come back here."

Hermione eyed the jars full of unappealing substances surrounding her and then weighed that against dealing with a self-righteous Snape... "I'm actually quite comfortable where I am, thank you, Professor."

A muttered curse and then soft footsteps echoed from the opposite side of the set of shelves. Apparently he was planning to sneak up on her. Hermione closed her eyes briefly – _what am I even doing?_ – before getting to her feet and quietly backing away.

The next few minutes were spent in the pair of them engaging in a most unusual, and completely silent, game of cat and mouse. Whenever Snape got to the end of the shelves, Hermione would slip around the corner at the opposite end, resulting in neither of them actually coming until visual contact with each other, until...

"Miss Granger, what a surprise," Snape purred in her ear as she rounded one end of the shelf for the sixth time. "Would you care to explain precisely what it is we're doing?"

"Gah!" Apparently, he'd had enough of chasing and had decided to wait for her. "Don't _do_ that!"

At the moment, he appeared too bemused with her actions to actually be angry; Hermione sincerely hoped it would stay that way. An eyebrow was arched and she winced as she waited for him to start berating her for wasting his time and his precious potions ingredients.

A twitch at the corner of his mouth drew her eye. Hermione paused in her trepidation. Yes, it did appear as if he was biting the inside of his lip in an effort to keep from...

"Professor Snape," she started in her best '_Boys, what have you done now?'_ voice. "Are you _laughing_ at me?"

A desperate snort, and then he turned his head into the arm resting against the shelving as his shoulders began to shake. Hermione was vividly reminded of the detention where her hair had been well and truly 'pinked' and she felt a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of her own lips. How was it that they always managed to end up exactly like this?

Letting out an inaudible sigh of relief, she slumped against the shelf, folded her arms and waited for him to regain his composure. Luckily, it didn't take very long.

Warm, black eyes looked down at her from a face which appeared younger than it had in weeks, and she felt a swift kick of anticipation in her stomach as he regarded her, as if they were both waiting for something... Then his expression closed and he looked away with a soft sigh. Hermione frowned and tried not to feel bereft; of what, she was not entirely certain.

"Well..." She cleared her throat uncomfortably. "Now that I've provided the week's comic relief, shall we get back to testing this new potion, which according to you should not actually exist?"

A look of relief flashed across his features and they ended up spending the rest of the session working silently together. It was a comfortable silence, but Hermione couldn't help feel, each time their hands knocked when reaching for the same instrument, that everything was about to change very soon...

oooOOOooo

_What am I going to do?_

This question had been repeating itself in Severus' head all evening.

Instead of being a professional – and above all sensible – adult about his inconvenient attraction to his apprentice (he refused to call it anything else), here he was finding as many reasons to get physically close to her as possible. Instead of shutting her out, he was opening up to her, showing her that she affected him; showing her little bits of his personality that hadn't seen the light of day since Lily had still been his best friend and he had still been somewhat innocent.

He firmly shook his head before the bad memories could drag him back down again and continued his patrol of the dark corridor. Between his worry over what the Dark Lord had planned, and his worry over what he was going to do about his ever-growing attraction to one of his _students_, he hadn't been able to get much sleep over the past couple of weeks. And, even worse, Hermione was beginning to notice and question him about it.

He hissed under his breath and turned another corner sharply. She was kind, she was funny, she made him feel comfortable in his own skin for the first time in years... _What am I going to do? How am I going to stop doing this? Soon she'll notice and then_...

All thoughts of precisely how Hermione would reject him were driven from his mind as he collided with someone, sending the shorter person tumbling to the floor.

"Sinistra?"

"Oh... Hello, Severus." The Astronomy teacher blinked at him and slowly dragged herself to her feet.

Severus frowned. Even with his own troubles crowding his mind, he could tell there was something wrong with the usually vivacious Professor. It wasn't like her to look so... worn down. "What's the matter? Did you hit your head? Or have the students destroyed your newest telescope again?"

She blinked again. "I'm fine. Thank you for your concern. Now, if you'll excuse me, I really must be going."

He blinked back at her, wondering what on earth was going on. True, there were weeks when she was decent to him, but to his knowledge she'd never given up the opportunity to exchange banter with him, whether it be truly snide or merely playful. Now, her demeanour seemed almost strained. "Perhaps I should – ahem – escort you to the Hospital Wing?" Severus twisted his mouth in distaste at openly showing this much concern for another human being, but forced himself to continue speaking, "You're looking a little pale."

"No thank you." She forced a smile and seemed to pull herself together a little. "I suppose I should get to bed. Goodnight, Severus." And then she walked off without a backward glance, leaving a bewildered Potions teacher behind her. It only took a moment for his brain to catch up with him, but by then she was already gone.

"Professor Sinistra!" Without conscious thought, his feet carried him forward, rounding the corner to find... a completely empty corridor. She must have already taken the hidden stairs up to her quarters. He seemed to remember her mentioning they were somewhere around here.

A couple of moments listening to his own breathing and mentally reviewing the conversation did nothing to change the fact that the other Professor had been unlike herself. Something had been wrong with her, but what? The general unease that had been growing for weeks threatened to overwhelm him until he took a deep breath and focused his thoughts once more. Was it possible that Sinistra was finally succumbing to the pressures of the war? They had had teachers break down before, especially seeing as Voldemort kept deciding to target the school, but he had never in a million years suspected Sinistra would be the next one to succumb. She had always seemed to be so strong. _I'll have to keep an eye on her and if the problem persists, well.._.

Closing his eyes and shaking his head, Severus set off towards the Headmaster's rooms. He had no idea what he might be able to do for her if it came to that. Maybe Albus was still awake. Hot chocolate laced with whiskey and some unassuming company for the next couple of hours sounded very appealing indeed. Albus would know what to do, surely? Besides, threatening the old man when he tried to offer him sweets was always therapeutic.

"She's been like that for a while now."

"Ah!" Severus almost jumped out of his skin, suddenly realising how Hermione felt when he snuck up on her. He made a resolution to stop doing it to her, and almost immediately made another one to keep doing it, if only as a method of preventing her from getting too comfortable with him. That would be bad. Yes, very bad.

He then realised that Minerva had been staring at him for a good while now, her eyebrows raised, and that he needed to stop thinking about Hermione and start responding to the witch in front of him.

"Do not do that! And what do you mean?" he snarled. What was it with people sneaking up on him tonight? Normally he was much better than this.

The raised eyebrows didn't lower. "Only that she's been even more distracted than you of late. I haven't been able to get a word out of her about what might be troubling her though." Her shrewd eyes narrowed. "And I can already tell I'll get the same reaction from you, so I'm not going to bother. Just do me a favour, will you?"

"And this favour would be?" Severus asked her cautiously.

"Keep an eye on her. Albus and I are already, but it won't harm anyone to have you watching out for her as well. It's not healthy to keep everything bottled up." She shot him a pointed look.

"Do not think for even a second–"

She waved a nonchalant hand, cutting him off. "I know, I know. Nothing gets under that protective shell of yours. Come on, let's go and see Albus. That is where you're heading isn't it?" she asked, already setting off down the corridor.

After a beat, Severus followed. After all his troubles with spying and students, it had been easy to forget that he did have something of a life of his own, small as it was.

Minerva smirked as she noticed him tagging along. "Good man. I've got something here to make Albus' hot chocolate a little more interesting, but it's not much fun without someone to enjoy it with. Albus doesn't know what he's missing."

Severus eyed the small bottle of single malt she'd shown him cautiously. "Is it just my imagination or are all the teachers of this school slowly turning into lushes? You, me, Sinistra, Trelawney, Hagrid... It worries me sometimes that Albus might be the only sober one of us all."

"Especially seeing as it's Albus," Minerva agreed with a snort. "Blame it on the poor salary and awful work hours, Severus. I know I do. Come along; we need to wake the Headmaster and make fun of his wardrobe. Now, tell me: how's your spoon hunt coming along? Had any other unusual urges to serenade members of the Ministry lately?"

Severus snorted and felt his spirits lift as the griffin guarding the Headmaster's staircase came into view. With all of its ups and downs taken into account, he supposed living at Hogwarts wasn't really all that bad.


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23:**

* * *

Much later that same night, Hermione was pulled from a deep sleep by someone shaking her by the shoulder as if the world were ending.

She rolled over in the hopes of dislodging them and mumbled about employing the inappropriate use of a broomstick if they didn't stop right that second. No such luck. In fact, the shaking evolved into poking.

"Alright. Alright! _Whatd'youwant?_" she slurred, flipping over to be confronted by… Snape.

Hermione clapped a hand over her mouth and glanced at the other girls' beds as a shocked squeak threatened to escape. The man looming over her did not back off, instead he cocked his head and blinked quizzically.

Oh. It was Snayip. Not Snape. Hermione refused to believe the feeling settling in her gut was disappointment.

Crookshanks lazily opened one golden eye, but seeing no threat, merely closed it again and settled into a deeper sleep. Hermione gave her cat a cross look. A fat lot of help he was.

"What are you doing here?" she hissed, once she was certain the coast was clear.

Maybe a more pertinent question would be, "How did you manage to get up to the girls' dormitory without tripping the alarm?"

On second thought, she really didn't want to know the answer to that.

Snayip's eyes widened and he tugged on her sleeve once before turning to point out of the window nearest her bed. "Hermione, look!" Through his grip, she could feel him trembling. It seemed she was going to be dealing with the toddler version of him tonight.

"What?" she asked again, her voice morphing into something softer. "You've seen something outside? Did it scare you?"

He gave a brief nod. "Hermione, come look."

"OK, but we've got to be really quiet. Goodness knows how you haven't woken anyone yet." Hermione climbed out of bed and went over to the dormitory window. The clouded night sky let a little natural light through, but even then there wasn't much to be seen of the steep turrets and high walls of the castle. "I can't see anything out there, Snayip. Where am I supposed to be looking?"

Snayip shook his head, seemingly frustrated, and tugged on her sleeve again. This time he pointed in the direction of the stairs with the most adorable pout on his face. Seriously, Hermione didn't know Snape could move his face in that way. "S'that way! Come 'n look."

And this time, Hermione caught on. "You can see it from your room? OK, show me. No, wait. Let me get my dressing gown."

Thus berobed, she carefully set her slippered feet on the stone stairs, and allowed her hand to be held tightly by an anxious Snayip. Her half-awake mind reached out to prod at Harry and Ron, but the threads of gold and red barely even stirred. They were clearly deeply asleep, and of little use to her if there was a real threat out there. She quickly ran through scenarios in which she might be able to contact Dumbledore or another teacher in an emergency. They ranked from conjuring her Patronus to actually sending Snayip for help. Needless to say, the second of those was her least favourite.

She really should have known that despite all her careful planning, she would end up stuck in the one situation she never would have suspected.

After they'd reached his room, Hermione had become increasingly frustrated with his frightened gestures – it seemed he'd regressed out of speech altogether now – and had eventually agreed to climb out onto the roof and have a good look around and thus prove to the terrified golem there was nothing there.

Hermione balanced carefully on the apex of the roof which ran perpendicular to the Tower and squinted into the darkness. _Nope, nothing there_. She turned back – again, very carefully – and put her hands on her hips. "See, nothing there. You're completely safe."

Snayip gave her an extremely dubious look.

"Look," Hermione gentled her tone, "if you lock the window tight and draw the curtains, nothing can get at you. Magically reinforced windows, remember?"

Grudgingly, Snayip nodded… and froze. Hermione heard it too. A clatter sounded from somewhere in the dark and Hermione whipped round to squint in all directions. She still couldn't see anything. It was probably a loose roof tile…

Apparently there were limits to a golem's bravery. The unknown noise pushed Snayip too far and he'd responded by slamming the window shut, locking it and then drawing the curtains tight shut for good measure. Exactly the way Hermione had told him to.

Only she hadn't meant with her still on the outside.

And so here she was, perched on the apex of the roof, attempting to get a frightened Snayip's attention so he could let her back in.

"Snayip? Snayip, sweetie, why don't you let nice Hermione back in? She'll get you cookies from the kitchen if you're good…"

There was no response from the room.

_Great. That's the last time I try to do something heroic out of the goodness of my heart. Sorry, Harry, you're going to have to find someone else to support your hare-brained schemes. I'm all adventured out_.

Sitting on a freezing roof with nought but her dressing gown and slippers to protect her from the elements was not her preferred way of spending a night. _Did I pick up my wand from the bedside table? Or did I dream that? Either way, it's certainly not with me now! Snayip had better not have pick-pocketed it. Once a Slytherin, always a Slytherin. And now I'm stuck_. If either Harry or Ron had been there, they would have cowered at the unimpressed look that crossed Hermione's face just then.

She had never had a head for heights, so it wasn't as if she could start poking around for a way off the roof. The only way down she was going to find in the dark was of the long drop and short stop variety.

_Hermione p__âté__. That would certainly put everyone off strawberry jam for weeks_.

Just as she was about to estimate her survival chances, slow footsteps nearby made her freeze and prick up her ears. _What in the world?_

She glanced over her right shoulder and, sure enough, there was a tall figure carefully (and somewhat unsteadily) walking along the apex of the roof towards her.

Hermione vacillated between curiosity and fear before settling for a tentative, "H-Hello?"

The swaying figure stopped and appeared to regard her through the darkness. Then, "Miss Granger?"

"Professor Snape?!" she squeaked back. _Just when I thought this night couldn't get any weirder_.

"Yes." The figure of her Potions Master gestured loosely with his right hand. "I appear to have become slightly… misplaced."

"I would agree with you there." At least the dark helped hide her fish impression. "I won't ask if you don't," she finally settled on.

The figure seemed to consider this for a moment before offering a quiet, "Fair enough." He walked closer and tentatively perched himself beside her. He was frowning and seemed to be viewing the grounds below with an expression of the utmost confusion.

"Are you alright?" The words had come from her mouth, but she didn't remember speaking them. "Other than being a couple of hundred feet from the ground, of course?"

Snape sighed and propped his elbows on his knees as he considered her question. A sudden change seemed to come over him and his head bowed like a puppet's would with the strings cut.

Hermione worried at her lip for a second before deciding to bite the bullet. She shifted closer and rested hand on his left arm. He was a warm, solid presence in the night and it gave her the courage to continue. "Are you alright?" she repeated.

A deep sigh escaped the man. "Not particularly."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, Hermione immensely grateful for the warmth and closeness. Suddenly, being stuck on the roof didn't seem quite so bad. The man beside her shifted and she tensed, ready to be repulsed by a sharp retort at her over-familiarity, but all that happened was that the arm under her fingers pulled away and then wrapped itself tightly around her shoulders.

It was a shock at first, but Hermione soon shut her eyes at the heat spreading through her body and let out a breath of relief she hadn't even known she had been holding. This was what she'd been craving: this closeness, this man. Her mind flashed back to that day in the Hospital Wing and suddenly she wanted that again more than anything. She wanted Snape, suave and confident in pursuing her, only this time conscious and in complete control of his efforts.

After all, Madam Pomfrey said all she had to do was get permission from the Headmaster to pursue this enigmatic man herself. Was that why nothing had happened between them? Was he waiting for her to make the first move? Being apprentice and Master may sound like they had an unbalanced relationship, but in the modern Wizarding community they would be viewed as equal extensions of the other, neither more nor less important than their colleague. She had done her research.

Student though she was, surely there was nothing wrong with wanting this man and acting upon it if she was on equal standing with him? _Or am I reading it all wrong? Maybe he's simply trying to provide a friend with warmth on a cold night. If he only thinks of me with something like paternal affection and I make a move, whatever friendship we've kindled this far would be over_.

"Severus?" She bit her lip almost immediately as soon as the word was out. It was too bold, too intimate, surely.

Snape said nothing about it, only tilted his head towards her to indicate he was listening.

Hermione let out a silent breath. "Do you want to talk about it? Whatever's troubling you? I can be a good listener if needed, though I can't promise to keep my advice to myself for long. Too opinionated, as I'm sure you're aware."

The man snorted. "You could say that, Miss Granger. But I would not know where to begin. My life has been so tangled for so long. I almost do not dare to think about what has past. Only about what is still to come. You know what I do for the Order; that kind of work is not the kind where you can lay down any long-term plans, nor is it the kind you wish to review in any detail beyond reports. In a way this fight has been my whole life. What would I be without it? I do not know, but I cannot risk looking back in case I become overwhelmed by what's behind me."

Hermione made a soft, sad sound and leaned her head against his shoulder. Her new hair tickled her nose but she didn't move. _He doesn't make long-term plans? Maybe I could be the one to do that for him. Do I dare, though?_

His words were so similar to Harry's only a few weeks ago: only focus on the now because anything else would be too much. "It will be over. One day. Isn't there anything you want to do if you find you've survived? Even if it's just having a pint. I know I'll be restraining Ron from pissing on You-Know-Who's grave."

Snape let out a low chuckle. "That's certainly a thought."

Hermione lifted her head and glared as fiercely as she dared. "If I find I have to restrain you too, I will be _unimpressed_."

This time the chuckle was almost a full laugh. "I certainly shall bear that in mind."

Hermione quirked her lip, looking right into his eyes. "Well, I was thinking that a pint might be more appropriate. I should be sorely disappointed if I found myself the only one in the pub."

Snape's eyes crinkled in a smile which almost reached his mouth. "Then I believe we have created my first plan on what to do once the dust has settled. And in that spirit, would you care for a drink, my lady?"

Hermione startled as she recognised a bottle of Single Malt he offered to her. "Thank you, no. You could be scamming me into losing House Points, you sneaky Slytherin. I didn't realise you'd been drinking." _Are you only holding me because of the liquor? Will you ever touch me so overtly of your own free, reasoned will? Well, he's agreed to a drink with me, so I supposed that's something_.

"I will undoubtedly regret it in the morning. As for now, I am not… compromised exactly, but it keeps memories I would rather didn't exist at bay."

"If you ever wanted to talk about it…" Hermione let her sentence trail off.

The man shrugged, seemingly uncomfortable with the continued line of conversation.

Hermione recognised the evasion and decided to let it go. "How did you get up on the roof, anyway?"

The corner of his mouth tilted. "Minerva's good idea of a good idea… Hm, that's not quite what I meant to say..." He sighed and regarded the bottle in his lap with a squint. "I decided to get some fresh air. I don't recall the Entrance Hall being located at this altitude though."

His eyes were closing, the spark she'd ignited earlier extinguished for the moment. Hermione gently smoothed her hand across his back, feeling tender and protective. "Come on, Severus. I think it's time for both of us to go back to bed." She nudged him in the direction he'd come from, praying that he'd remember how he'd got up to the roof in the first place. If he slipped or lost his way there was no way she would be able to save him without the use of her wand.

Her own foot skidded a little and she reached forward and caught the sleeve of his robe to steady her progress. His hand reached back, firmly caught hers and held it tight.

Needless to say, Hermione tripped a couple more times for other reasons before they got off the roof.

oooOOOooo

Now, let me distract you from these – ahem – serious matters by a little interlude.

It is a well-known and unsurprising fact that potions ingredients do not like Potions Masters. If both end up in the same vicinity, then nine times out of ten, the ingredients end up chopped, mashed, sliced, boiled, or subjected to any number of unspeakable experiences. This is why most potions ingredients must be kept in jars until the last possible second before addition to a caldron; otherwise they would long ago have found a way to creep off.

Arnold was no exception to this rule, despite the vigorous addition of pumpkin juice that aided his creation. He may be a heap of orange foam, but he was not stupid, and so the reason why he was sneaking under the door of the Potions Master's storeroom for the fifth time in a row was not because of some strange, suicidal desire, nor was it because he was misinformed.

To put it simply, he was created by a Gryffindor. And, as most people are quick to assume, Gryffindors often have more guts than sense when pursuing a good cause. The irony of this situation is that these people would be absolutely and irrefutably right ninety nine point nine percent of the time... Hence the impromptu rescue mission Arnold was endeavouring to complete for his fellow potions ingredients.

oooOOOooo

The next morning was less than pleasant for the school's resident Potions Master.

Severus folded his arms and tried to set fire to the cursed women who had invaded his living quarters with his eyes.

He was currently in his living room, being berated by the school's irate Matron and nursing a hangover which could have felled a horse.

_I have to stop getting drunk during term-time._

He couldn't _really _remember many of last night's events. He remembered finding Hermione… somewhere… and her helping him back through the corridors of the school. There were some buoyant emotions associated with that memory which Severus was acutely unfamiliar with. If only he could remember what had caused them…

He sighed and gave it up for the moment. Hopefully he would remember more once his head stopped pounding.

Hermione escorting him back to his quarters safely was kind. Albus setting Madam Pomfrey on him shortly after his return was not.

_The man is trying to kill me, I swear. Waking to that woman glaring at you from the side of the bed is enough to give any man a heart-attack_.

It was probably only a matter of time before Hooch and Sinistra learnt of his unfortunate condition and arrived to laugh at him again.

Severus decided enough was enough and turned his attention back to the witch in front of him. "Sorry, what was that? The nonsense you were just spouting filled up the space between my ears and my brain."

"Severus, you're getting positively repetitive in your old age. Now–" she stuck her finger unnecessarily close to his nose "–I am aware of your circumstances, I am aware of the _persuasive_ qualities of the Headmaster and I'm aware you feel unreasonably indebted to him, BUT–" the finger inched close and Severus resisted the temptation to wrinkle his nose as it would look most undignified "–if I EVER hear of you being drunk and disorderly on the school grounds again, I will personally hunt you down, tie you to one of my hospital beds and tell EVERYONE that you have porphyria." She smiled sweetly. "Understood?"

Severus, who had already opened his mouth to protest, snapped it shut, frowned, opened it again and asked, "Why porphyria?"

"Because no one will know what it is and it sounds impressive. You'd be lucky if the students wouldn't come and start poking you with sticks by the end of the first day. Good morning to you, Severus. I hope you've taken my warning to heart. Whatever would Miss Granger think of you?"

Severus winced and suddenly found the carpet very interesting.

With raised eyebrows and a knowing purse of the lips, the school's Matron turned and exited his quarters.

_Are all medical professionals that dramatic, or is it just her?_ Severus sucked his teeth and released a deep breath through his nose. _That was close. I thought I was on dietary restriction for certain this time… What IS porphyria? Is there a potion for it?_

He quickly headed towards his laboratory. _I can kill two birds with one stone: make a hangover cure and find out whatever… that… is. I hardly want her to give it to me in an attempt to confine me to the Hospital Wing. Is it some kind of fungus, mayhap? Oh, now that's put me off having a mushroom omelette for breakfast_.

The door to his lab swing open and Severus… stopped.

There was a _thing_ already in there. It… it appeared to be… a lump of orange foam.

Even as he watched, frozen in bewilderment, the thing… squidged… along the shelf it was sitting on and engulfed another vial of potions ingredients. Then, with preternatural strength, it squeezed until the vial cracked, shattered and shed its contents all over the floor. The foam slid along to the next vial and repeated the process.

Severus looked from it, to the ingredient-strewn floor and back again, getting the distinct impression that he was witnessing how an octopus may hunt. Finally the reality of the situation dawned on him and with a snarl of rage he upended a burlap sack of its flour-like contents and – thus armed – began to stalk his villainous prey.

The only good thing he could see of coming out of this disastrous situation was that his once-malignant hangover now seemed to be a thing of the past.

_Good morning indeed, Severus._

oooOOOooo

Hermione blinked.

And then resisted the urge to shut the door and walk away.

Professor Snape, surrounded by strewn messes of potions ingredients, was being dragged along the floor by a squirming burlap sack. His furious snarls at the treatment were more comical than terrifying.

It might be worth mentioning that said Professor was covered in what appeared to be flour and the aforementioned potions ingredients.

Hermione allowed herself the indulgence of blinking hard one more time before sighing and deciding she really ought to look into how to smuggle coffee into Hogwarts. It was too early in the morning to deal with this, especially on the weekend.

"Good morning, Professor Snape."

Honestly, she'd only wanted to see how he was doing after last night.

The man in question looked up abruptly, his wild hair adding to his impression of a deer in headlights. "Miss– Miss Granger. Good day."

He did not move from his position on the floor.

Hermione batted her eyes innocently. "Anything I can do for you this morning, Professor?"

Black eyes stared at her helplessly as the sack dragged him another foot. "I– Yes. Please."

_Ooh, he must be in trouble if he's using the 'P' word._

"What's in the bag?" she asked nonchalantly, shutting the door behind her.

"The most infernal creature I have ever come across. The dratted thing caused all this disarray before I could capture it."

Hermione had to quickly hide her giggles. _'Capture' it? Are you certain about that, Severus?_

The sack gave a sudden lurch and Hermione experienced a sinking sensation as she got an inkling of what was in the sack. "Umm…" Maybe coming clean now would be less painful in the long run. "Professor?"

"Yes?"

"Whatever's in there wouldn't happen to be… orange and… foamy, would it?"

Fierce black eyes glared at her. "Miss Granger, what have you done?"

She folded her arms and glared back. "It's not mine, OK? I just happen to know about him. He's called Arnold by the way."

Snape's jaw dropped and the second his fingers loosened, Arnold was out and ready to create havoc once more, only…

"Arnold!"

The foam froze at the sharp retort.

"That's really no way to behave! Just look at what you've done to Professor Snape's nice lab. Aren't you ashamed of yourself? Apologise at once!"

Quivering and at once contrite, the foam slid over and leaned into Snape's knee. The Professor simply stared at it with a helpless, bewildered expression which spoke of an imminent mental break-down.

Hermione winced and decided to wrap things up quickly. "Now you go back home at once, you– you– you Bad Foam!"

Arnold slunk from the room.

Snape stared up at her from the floor. Hermione could almost see Snayip's pout overtaking his features. "I'm going to pretend that never happened in order to preserve my sanity. No – I really don't want to know," he continued when Hermione opened her mouth to apologise. "Just… Help me to clean this up."

They set to collecting and salvaging as many potions ingredients as possible, cringing internally at the damage. Snape managed to make himself half-presentable via their combined _Scourgify_; though it was clear a shower was in order. Hermione found his frazzled hair fairly enjoyable, but was careful not to let her amusement show on her face.

Around midday, the lab looked as close to normal as either could get it, so they turned their attention to Hermione's latest 'creation' and its properties. If nothing else, the prospect of testing something seemed to perk up the Professor.

It perked up Hermione too, but not in the way she expected.

"Miss Granger."

"Yes?"

"It appears this ovoid of your concoction has made a sizable dent in my hard, _granite_ floor."

"Yes. Yes, it appears it has."

"Have you any idea why this might be the case? Especially as the potion you were brewing was supposed to counteract allergies to dried Billywig Stings? Any clue, Miss Granger?"

"Nope. Can't say that I do."

"Alright, then."

They stared at the shape which was bending the floor beneath it for quite a while before Snape picked it up again. It lifted easily. The hole disappeared. He dropped it again and the sphere sank obligingly two inches into the floor before stopping.

"This… I have no idea what this is. Miss Granger, you appear to have created an object of which I cannot even think of words to describe its _properties_, let alone what it's actually supposed to be. How are we supposed to patent this when I cannot event describe it?"

Hermione opened her mouth, and shut it again. "I… think we might have created something with no mass and a high density… magically. Think we should give it to the Quidditch teams to test for us?"

Apprentice and Master exchanged glances and shrugged. "I don't see why not."

"I'll give it to Harry. He has an affinity for weird magical objects."

"You are not letting that anywhere near Harry Potter. The mayhem…" The Potions Master went quite pale. "I shall give it to the Headmaster to examine."

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Oh, like that's so much better than my idea."

"Point."

"My friends, I found my ears were burning, so I decided to investigate. One can never be too careful."

Hermione and Snape shrieked and spun on the spot to find the Headmaster twinkling happily at them from where, only a moment before, there had been a blank wall.

"Albus, how did you…? No wait, I believe already know the answer to my own question – magical magic, yes?" Snape sneered at the old man.

Hermione choked and pretended to study the nearest shelf when Snape's glare shifted briefly to her.

"Why, Severus, you do pay attention! Now tell me all about this wonderful object you were thinking to make a gift of…"

Hermione, wisely, decided to beat a hasty retreat. She had her own insane friends to deal with. She didn't want anyone else's! Besides, after you spent enough time around Snape you came to know which of his glares were real and which were used to hide secret smiles.

They were scarily similar to Hermione's when dealing with Harry and Ron.

Snape was too busy trying to stop Dumbledore absentmindedly re-arranging his laboratory to notice her sneaking off.

* * *

_A/N:So sorry I haven't updated this 2010! I'm hoping to get back to regular updates now and finally finish this WIP. Many, many thanks to beta Spst - you've been a fantastic help with getting this chapter into an acceptable shape._


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter Twenty-Four:**

* * *

"Albus."

_Plink_.

"Albus."

_Plonk_.

"Albus."

_Plink_…

_Is he just going to ignore me completely? If he pokes one more thing_...

_Plonk!_

"Albus, stop touching my things!"

The old Headmaster turned and twinkled. "Something wrong, dear boy?"

"My potions apparatus is not your personal keyboard. Stop. Touching. My. Things. Furthermore, as of early this morning, I am no longer talking to you."

"No? You're doing an admiral job of it so far, my boy."

"No, I'm not. You set Madam Pomfrey on me!"

"You speak as if she were a rabid animal, Severus."

"She is sometimes! Merlin, I sometimes find myself seriously considering your cupboard with the creepy hand an adequate hiding place. It might keep me safe until Potter does something stupid again; the only time she forgets about me is when he is under her care."

"Well, my closet is always open to you…"

"Creepy does not suit you, Albus. Stop trying to unsettle me." Severus masterfully stopped himself from sticking his tongue out at the now chuckling Headmaster.

"We haven't done this for ages, Severus. We should find time to chat more often."

"No, please, let's not." Severus twitched and abruptly glanced to where Hermione had been standing, but it appeared that she'd already let herself out. _Just as well. It wouldn't do for her to see me letting Albus wind me up_.

He looked back to find the man in question regarding him with an amused smile and raised eyebrows. "Something you want to tell me, Severus?"

Severus winced. "I cannot say that I do."

"You know you can tell me anything. Anything at all."

"Leave it alone!" he snarled, his good mood abruptly broken. "I don't want to even think about it, much less discuss it with the Headmaster of this school!"

"As you wish."

Severus took a deep breath and struggled for composure. It seemed lately that everyone seemed to be correctly guessing his feelings for Hermione Granger. _When did I become so transparent? I should just quit as the Order spy before I find myself spouting about the joys of rainbows and sunshine and Muggle-borns to the Dark Lord. Though judging from his love of Cheering Charms, those first two might go down quite well…_

Albus seemed to correctly guess the direction of his thoughts. "Any news lately from our friend Tom?"

Severus turned his back and started tidying his work bench. He needed his hands busy for this. After a moment, Albus moved alongside to help.

"I have not heard a whisper since our last encounter. Whatever he has planned hasn't come to pass yet and that makes me anxious. He never was much for the waiting game unless it was something very big. You might want to inform the Order to double the guard around the school."

"I have already done so."

"Really? Then explain to me how I ended up on the roof. Surely one of them would have noticed me scaling a wall or hopping through and window and put a stop to it?"

"On the contrary, Severus. I received five separate reports of your night-time explorations and–" the man's eyes twinkling devilishly "–the people you might have encountered along the way. They seemed to be under the impression you had become bored with patrolling the normal way and decided to try something more high-risk."

"Geniuses, all of them. And you wonder why we aren't winning the war."

"I would disagree. We have the best, most dedicated, and loyal individuals committed to helping our cause…"

"Who logically assume a man climbing out of a window is just going for a night-time stroll?"

"I never said it was a window."

"You didn't have to. I was looking for the Entrance Hall. I would hardly find it, walk outside, and continue looking for it by climbing _up an outside wall_."

"Stranger things have happened."

"To you maybe."

"You can't really blame them, Severus. You have been caught up in the most unusual circumstances this year; dancing and singing in front of the Minister in particular was quite inspired I have to say."

"_That wasn't me!_"

"As you say. However, he was dressed in your clothes, wearing your boots and using your voice."

"Keep this up, Albus, and I will never buy you socks for Christmas again."

"Really, my boy, I was only joking. There's no need to wound me so grievously!" Albus clutched his chest and feigned collapsing.

"Alright, alright, old man. I promise not to threaten your future socks."

"Thank you. There, now. All tidy."

Both men surveyed the now spotless laboratory. Everything was finally in its place following the creature's escapades the night before. Hermione had been a massive help, but the only person besides Severus himself who knew exactly where everything went in his lab was the Headmaster.

"Hermione Granger certainly is an accomplished young lady, isn't she?" Albus commented as he idly examined the result of her altered potion. "Any man to catch her fancy would be very lucky indeed."

Severus pointedly did not look at him.

Albus chuckled and tucked the sphere under his arm. "You're not doing anything wrong, my boy. Waiting for her to be out of school before pursuing her is admirable, but do not make her wait too long."

Severus could feel his cheeks colouring against his will. "Who says I am waiting for anything? Maybe I plan to do nothing, as any man – as any _teacher_ – twenty years a girl's age should be. And maybe the girl's Headmaster ought to be advising said man along these same lines."

Albus gently patted his shoulder with his free hand. "The wizarding world has fewer laws regarding this because of our limited society. I keep forgetting you were brought up in the Muggle one. If an individual is of the age of consent, and of sound mind, then they can consent. Besides, when you get to my age, everyone seems young."

"I maintain that is a very naïve perspective."

"Again, as you say, my friend. I hope to see you at lunch. Or at the very least, dinner."

"I will see what I can do. Now go away before I overdose on your cheeriness."

Chuckling, Albus dodged Severus' swipe at his head and made for the door. "I will let you know the results of my tests on this, Severus. A truly unusual discovery. Be sure to let Miss Granger know."

Severus grumbled under his breath before shouting at the closed door, "You hardly need to orchestrate circumstances for me to see her. She is my apprentice!" Realising what he'd let slip, Severus winced and frowned at his workbench. _Why does no one else think this is a bad idea? The decisions I made in my last year of Hogwarts were certainly the ones I have regretted and will regret for the rest of my life. Why should it be any different for her?_

oooOOOooo

Hermione managed to catch up with her friends at lunchtime in the Great Hall.

"Hey, guys," she began as she slid into her seat, "you will not believe what just…" She trailed off. "Harry, where did you get a box of porridge oats?"

Guilty green eyes peeped over the top of it. "Places."

"Seeing that not only is it _lunchtime,_ but also that the house-elves serve our porridge in tureens, I find that I don't really want to know the real answer to that."

"Listen to this." Harry jabbed a finger at the back of the box, where he'd apparently been reading the instructions. "'How well acquainted are you with your daily intake?' That's like saying 'How well are you acquainted with your porridge?' How are people supposed to respond to that? 'Yes, I am well acquainted with my porridge: mine is called Gregory! Gregory Carothers.'"

Hermione stared. "I would be asking you if you felt alright if I didn't already know you're like this all the time. Now I really, really don't want to know where you got the box. Especially if it's part of your latest scheme to defeat Voldemort."

"No, wait! It could work," Ron chimed in. "If you heat the porridge to a certain temperature… Why are you glaring at me, Hermione?"

"Why do you think? Besides, I think you ought to be focusing less on porridge and more on keeping your latest pet in check. And possibly about a cage for him at night-time. He almost gave Professor Snape a nervous break-down this morning."

"Really? Wicked! D'you mean the one with the hair, or the one with the pumpkin juice?"

Harry's worried eyes appeared over the top of the cereal packet again. "Ron, think about it. If he's considered the picture of mental health now, what will happen when he snaps?"

Ron shuddered. "Fair point, mate. What happened, Hermione?"

"It was the one with the pumpkin juice. Let's just say that the Professor got covered in flour and dragged across the floor, OK? No more details."

There was a suspicious snicker behind the porridge.

"Harry!"

The snickering stopped.

"I hope you're not going to feed that to Arnold. You know what the pineapple did to him."

"But, Hermione, that's a great idea!"

"Ron, no!"

"Why?"

"Because I said so."

"Yeah, but why?"

"Hermione, please stop looking like you're going to eat him. It's making me nervous."

"Alright, Harry. Have either of you thought about what we're going to do about the problem in the forest?"

The porridge box shrugged. "Outsource it?"

"How exactly do you outsource a sp–? Now look what you almost made me do," she hissed, glancing nervously at Seamus. The poor boy was still obviously suspicious of Harry and Ron from the way he was eyeing the three of them. "I say we take a little trip into the woods and see if we can come up with anything once we're there."

"Hermione? Breaking rules? In the middle of the day? It's the end of the wooooorld!"

"Shut up, Ron. Come one, let's go. No, Harry, you can't take the porridge box with you. And by the way? The pet with the hair? I am no longer a fan. He locked me out on the roof!"

Harry and Ron glanced at each other as they walked and burst into giggles.

"No laughing! It's not funny. I mean it, stop laughing. He left me there in my nightgown. It was minus two!"

If anything, the two boys ended up laughing even more helplessly.

Hermione stuck her nose in the air and proceeded to ignore them for the rest of the trip. She only stopped once along the way to conjure three spades, which she waved menacingly at the boys – still grinning like the Kneazles who got the cream – as she walked.

The spoon tree tinkled softly in the wind. Its unusual fruit twinkled in the distant sunlight… as well as in the headlights of a battered Ford Anglia.

In no mood to put up with more nonsense, Hermione folded her arms. "Shoo."

The car flashed its full beams at her insolently.

"No, it can't be your friend. We have to get rid of it. Shoo!"

The Ford Anglia beeped angrily before reluctantly reversing into the trees. Hermione got the impression that it hadn't gone very far. Hopefully it would not come back before they were done.

"OK, boys. Grab a spade."

"Do we have to, Hermione?"

"Yes, Ron. We do."

"But it seems fine here. Aw, look it's twinkling! It must be happy."

Hermione closed her eyes and gave Harry a very sharp mental prod.

"Ow!"

"My point exactly, Harry."

The Ford Anglia started to creep back into the clearing, as if its blue bulk might be missed if it moved slowly enough.

Hermione gave it a long-suffering look, but allowed it to stay.

"Hey, here's an idea: Dad's car likes it, so why don't we dig it up, put it in the boot, and use the car to relocate it?"

The car beeped joyously.

Hermione cocked her head and glanced at Harry, who shrugged. "You know, Ron. That might actually be a good idea. Why not?"

"Right!" Harry stepped forward, wielding his spade like an axe. "Let's do this."

The spoon tree – obviously sensing danger – went through a very swift transformation. One moment it was tinkling merrily in the breeze, and then the next every spoon (regardless of size) was sticking out horizontally like a porcupine's quills.

Harry stepped back. "This might be a little more difficult than we first planned."

Ron grimaced. "We need to get that thing out of here before it breeds with the Whomping Willow. That would be truly terrifying."

Several hours (and a few sore heads) later, the spoon tree was happily settled in its new location. Harry, Ron, and Hermione however, were less than pleased. Hermione had curled up in the back seat of the Ford Anglia as it drove them back to school, leaving the boys to sprawl in the front.

"Ugh, I've got mini-spoons in my hair!" A pause. "And there's a sentence I never expected to hear."

"Join the club, Hermione." Harry dusted his own mop accordingly and several tiny metal creations tinkled down into the footwell. "I have never felt more respect for Professor Sprout than I do now. I'm covered in mud, leaves and bruises. Why would anyone want to do this voluntarily?"

The other two muttered their agreement and lapsed into silence.

Hermione eventually roused herself and sat up. "I'm beginning to think discussing how to kill the Dark Lord with porridge would have been easier than trying to be responsible."

Ron made a sympathetic face. "We can always discuss the porridge theory now if it makes you feel better?"

"Let me think – no."

The lights of the Castle came into view and the car stopped accordingly. No sooner had it they climbed out and stretched than a white shape whooshed out of the darkness straight at them.

All three Gryffindors screamed. Ron managed to hit the highest pitch out of all of them.

After a moment, Harry said, "Don't worry, it's only Hedwig."

Ron spluttered and clutched at his heart, using the Ford's bonnet to hold himself upright. Hermione just put a hand to her forehead and breathed a deep, deep breath.

Harry grinned and petted Hedwig gently. "Who's a good girl, then? Been practising that sneak manoeuvre I've been teaching you? I can tell you have. Well done. Ow!"

This time it had been both Hermione and Ron mentally jabbing him.

"You know, I didn't give you guys this link so you could just abuse me."

Twin glares answered him.

"OK, then." He unrolled the note Hedwig had brought him. "It's from Dumbledore…" Harry read the rest with a frown. "He wants to see me tonight to discuss something important."

"You gonna tell us what it was when you get back, mate?"

Harry hesitated. "Why not? OK, I promise. I'd probably have ended up telling you anyway." He set off towards the Castle at a run, Hedwig swooping low after him, which left Hermione and Ron to make their own way back.

Hermione crouched down and patted the Ford's bonnet gently. "I don't care how much you like it; I need you to promise me you will never try to make baby Fords with that tree. God knows what'll happen if you try."

The car reversed quickly out of sight without acknowledging her. She sighed and let it go.

Ron shuddered. "Forget porridge. Spoon-trees with wheels? That would definitely finish off You-Know-Who. And me."

"Well, let's hope we find something else soon. Harry might be joking about it, but it's been wearing him down for long enough. I keep wishing someone would just find a way to finish him off without Harry having to do anything, but I know that isn't going to happen."

They started walking back to the Castle.

"I thought you didn't believe in prophecies?"

"I don't; but everyone else does. So no one will do anything until we already have."

They walked in silence for a while, careful to keep well away from the cheerful lights of Hagrid's cabin. The quiet made Hermione reflect on the subject which had been at the forefront of her mind for quite a while. Her feelings for a certain Professor were becoming increasingly hard to ignore and the fact she hadn't even mentioned them to her best friends made her feel inexplicably guilty. Eventually, she bit her lip and decided to just get it over with.

"Ron?"

"Yeah?"

_I can't believe I'm going to start this conversation with Ron of all people. I thought it would have been Harry first if it was anyone at all._ "If I say I think I… I think I like… I– maybe? What do you think I should do?"

Ron gave her the hairy eyeball. "This is about Snape, isn't it?"

Hermione hid her face in her hands. _I am such an idiot. An obvious idiot_. "If I liked a certain man more than I should and decided to do something about it, would you hate me?" It felt surprisingly good to say it out loud; she wasn't in the habit from hiding things from her friends. Even things they would rather not know about.

Ron sighed, and Hermione blinked in shock as for one minute, he looked more like a grown stranger than her daft-but-dear friend. "Hermione, if he hurts you – really hurts you – me 'n Harry will kill him. But, c'mon, no matter what we say, you'll do what you want anyway. You always have. Besides, it's not like we haven't already guessed with all the hints you've been dropping."

Hermione shivered in the twilight and pulled her robes around her. "I know. But what do _you_ think of it? It may be outside of your comfort zone, but it's out of mine too! I'm not exactly an innocent, but this is different. More important."

Ron groaned. "Oh, Merlin. You're going to end up married to him, aren't you? I thought we'd be able to escape him after school, but that's never going to happen, is it? We'll be stuck with the spoon secret for all eternity! And you'll invite us to dinner-parties and we'll have to suffer through the soup course while he glares at the pathetic, inferior spoon he has to use as a substitute…"

It was Hermione's turn to give Ron the hairy eyeball. "And I thought I was overthinking things."

Ron grinned and dropped the act. "You are. You're of age, and capable of hexing him sideways if he so much as looks at you funny. Just snog him and if you don't like it, move on. If you like it – ew, serious ew – then it's not like Harry's gonna abandon you. Or me, OK? Can we stop talking about this now?"

Hermione reached out on tip-toe and ruffled his hair. "Yes, Ron. We can stop talking about it now. Thank you."

By the time they reached the Common Room, Harry was already there, sitting in one of the large chairs by the fire. Surprisingly, Arnold was perched in his lap in full view of everyone; Harry was petting him absently. There were several First-Years regarding the pair with a kind of horrified wonder from the other side of the room.

Hermione and Ron glanced at each other and shrugged.

They made their way over warily and Hermione perched on the arm of the chair, while Ron sprawled on the rug in front of the fire.

"Hey, Harry. That was quick."

"Indeed it was, Mr Bond."

Ron's fish impression seemed to be improving. "What?"

"I'm practising being an evil mastermind so I can get inside Voldie's mind-set and thus thwart his evil plans. Arnold is starring as my furry, white cat." He raised a derisive eyebrow at them and stroked Arnold with a flourish. "What d'you think?"

"Try that again with an eye patch."

"Don't encourage him, Ron! Why is Arnold out in the open, Harry?"

"Gives him a change of scene… And maybe because he freaks everyone out a tad."

Right on cue, a First Year tried to approach them, and Arnold inflated to twice his normal size. The child squeaked and ran away, and Arnold settled back into Harry's lap with a contented sigh. Harry grinned. "Cool, huh?"

Ron fell about laughing. Hermione just put her head in her hands and sighed. "Just whatever you do, please don't feed him porridge."

Harry patted her bowed head gently. "No worries."

Hermione batted Harry's hand and poked Arnold away from where he had been trying to climb onto her lap. "None of that, Mister. What did Dumbledore want, Harry?"

"Oh, that." Harry shrugged. "He just wanted to give me a frying pan. I put it upstairs."

"A what?"

"I know. I thought I'd got pretty used to him by now, but that one really threw me. And then he said something along the lines of, 'Use it wisely,' and, 'Keep it secret, keep it safe,' so I just said OK, and left. Couldn't follow what he was on about – his helping hand waving at me through half his explanation wasn't helping – but at least we can practise making our own omelettes, hey?"

There did come a point when you just had to ignore the strangeness and carry on as if nothing had happened. Hermione had definitely reached that point today, so she simply shook her head and asked, "What was it made of?"

"Some kind of metal I've never seen before. It's pretty light for its size except for when I put it down; then it seems to bend the table."

Hermione opened, and then shut her mouth. _Don't be stupid, Hermione. It's just a coincidence. The Headmaster would never turn your experiment into a frying pan_...


End file.
